Permission to Castrate Please
by PureWaterLily
Summary: To save Itachi from his terminal illness, Sakura leaves Konoha to study under the renowned doctor of the New World, Carlisle. It's just too bad his son, Edward, will not stop creepily stalking her.
1. A Bachelorette's Call to Adventure

_AU: Mostly canon in both worlds, with small alterations._

_Pairings: Like all ninja/vampire stories... it's complicated. But understand Sakura is pansexual in this. And that I have thing for extremely outrageous or controversial pairings. Just sayin'._

_A/N: I have no excuse for this, other than that I wondered what a Naruto/Twilight crossover might be like as I chewed on some carrots._

* * *

For someone of no noble heritage, Haruno Sakura has made quite the name for herself by eighteen years old.

With twenty sets of katas, four advanced jutsus, countless genjutsu tricks, and incredible control, intelligence, and speed, she is arguably one of the strongest kunoichi of her generation, her capabilities having surpassed Ino, Hinata, Tenten, Hana, and, through a combination of luck and drunken stupidity on her opponent's behalf, Anko.

She is also an accomplished Tokubetsu Iryou-nin, a first class Specialized Doctor of Medicine, with perfect markings on every examination. She has advanced almost all branches of traditional and contemporary healing, saved hundreds of lives, and her agile fingers can swivel a pair of forceps better than shuriken.

Finally, Sakura has one of _the_ most extensive connections in the village, and through her, you will meet some of the most _interesting_ people of your life.

For example, if you are an associate of Sakura, you are, by default, the new best friend of one Uzumaki Naruto (diplomat, fighter, and protectorate of Konoha, the Hidden Leaf Village) who will swing one arm around your shoulder, sashay you to one fine dining institution known as Ichiraku Ramen (you're paying), and, in between bowls of miso, hose you down with a billion questions from any romantic interest you might have in one certain pinkette (an answer which will determine the duration of your lifespan) to which brand of milk products will most likely give you uncontrolled bowel movements.

Besides Sakura's longtime blond companion, you will also have the privilege of greeting the commander of the military police force, Uchiha Sasuke, who, if on a good mood, will glance at you once before strutting away, and if on a bad mood, will glare you down with such intensity that you will collapse to his feet in bleak surrender, crying mama (to which you will suddenly lose your ability to form coherent sentences for the remainder of the week, because reminding one of the strongest shinobi in the village of his deceased maternal figure is never a good idea).

If by any fortune (or misfortune) you have recovered from Sasuke's extensive brainfuck and have not committed suicide yet, then there is a high probability that you might find yourself in the company of Sakura's friend and heiress of the most revered clan in the village, the lovely Hyuuga Hinata, who, while fidgeting with her fingers, will shyly present to you a bouquet of flowers from one incredibly sorry but outrageously busy medic. Alongside the flowers will be a strongly worded apology for her stupid teammates, and, if you are willing to give her another chance, Sakura will gladly give you a tour of the famous Konoha obon festivals upon your recovery.

And that will be the plan, if you do not give the messenger anything other than the politest form of thank you – brief, curt, and professional - because any breezily shot comments (or, say, experimental tests on the capability of your wiggling eyebrow to charm ladies) will result in oxygen deprivation and immediate collapse of the heiress. And as you lift her up in the hospital room, asking if she's alright (thereby causing another round of insta-faints), chances are, right then and there, her teammates will appear, or her cousin will appear, or Ino, the village gossiper who is far too willing to jump to conclusions, will appear, and if so, you are epically screwed whichever way.

Okay, so a bloody nose and several missing teeth later, you will probably be packing your bags, angrily limping to the Konoha gate, Sakura's quick footsteps following you, her hands clutched together, pleading that you stay one more day, one more day to see the lanterns with her.

And as you reconsider, most likely you will bump into some of her mentors, the infamous Hatake Kakashi, the brilliant Yuuhi Kurenai, and the legendary Tsunade, who will shoo her off for some mission, and Sakura will give you one last plea before disappearing to the Hokage's tower. That leaves the opportune time for her mentors to nonchalantly inform you of your gauche, despicable, and noncommittal conduct (courtesy of one copy-nin), or calmly reprimand you that teenage girls her age are rather insecure and you're not helping (courtesy of one genjutsu master), or just send you flying at over a hundred kilos per hour, screaming _you don't deserve my apprentice, bitch! _(courtesy of one Sannin).

And maybe you don't deserve her, hence why after several broken bones, gallons of blood loss, and a sanity that jumped the bridge, you change your name, rearrange your face, and live the rest of your life on a remote island as a hermit, pretending none of this ever happened. Just like every other interested fella before you.

Thus, every obon festival, Sakura sulks in the hospital wing, staring out the window at the lantern infested lake with such a despondent expression that sends Sasuke to shame, because goddammit, she is eighteen, at the prime of her youth, and what little guys and girls who are not intimidated by her reputation are squatted like flies by her own loved ones. And since there are not many people who find her quirky, semi-violent self _appealing to begin with_, the probability that she will end up in a convent now seems ridiculously high.

And it is that exact brooding that has her inwardly groaning, so she distracts herself from wallowing in self-pity by pacing around the room, rechecking the IV and monitors, wiping scalpels, and peeling mandarin oranges all while she rants to her long term patient.

"And after I got my mission, he just disappeared. _Disappeared!_" She punctuates with a stab into her orange. "And when I asked Kakashi-sensei, he just waved the matter off like _men disappearing off the face of the planet_ is no big deal, and gave me some bullcrap about how I'm better off without him."

"Maybe Kakashi-san is right," her patient says, "if he is so discourteous as to abandon you on such an important date."

"Not you too," Sakura cries. "Look, I _know_ he used to be a thief, I know his reputation isn't the greatest, but he's _changed_ dammit. He's a decent man now, and he's so sweet to me, and he'd never just _disappear_ had it not been for my lousy boyfriend patrol squad."

"Why not ask Shiho-san like last year? She would enjoy your company."

"Girlfriend patrol squad scared her away," she grumbles irritably, violently deskinning her orange. And Sakura is fond of Shiho too, loves the times they spent reading at the library, chatting over latest trivia, or giggling together under the tables of the crypt labs as they exchanged oekaki puzzles. Unfortunately, Sakura's friends did not approve of their nerd love, and it took fifty or so accusative fingers before Shiho broke down, bowed to Sakura, and said maybe it was best they invested their interests in other people.

Her patient gives her a sympathetic smile. "Maybe next year."

Sakura blandly nods. Meanwhile, her inner self is howling, because at eighteen, her hormone levels have shattered the scale, and if she cannot get a partner soon, she will start staring at innocent inanimate objects with not-so innocent intentions.

Sakura keeps her inner self on a leash, separates slices of clementine, and pleasantly deviates to a different topic with, "Well, the _good_ news for the day is that we finally have a letter from the foreigners."

"On studying abroad?"

"Yeah. They say they can accommodate one of us into their lands, as long as we don't cause trouble. Tsunade-shishou picked me to go study their medicine."

"Did you accept?"

Sakura holds her breath. Then, with a sigh, she shakes her head. "I said I needed time to think about it."

It is a big deal. She will be going to another continent, submerging in foreign culture. The shinobi lands are reclusive, and it is not common to intermingle with the outside world. In fact, the idea is so big, that even her large cranium cannot register it. So instead, she tucks the whole notion away as another strange mission.

Though, after completing multiple life-death missions, fighting creepy pedophiles, chasing after magical gemstones, destroying armies of zombies, tearing the time-space continuum, and engaging in everything from dancing with puppets to petting saber-toothed tigers, all during her early adolescent years, Sakura is used to these kinds of things.

Still she hesitated, because this time, it is just herself. No Naruto, no Sasuke, no Sai. No one. Her reason is selfish, especially since her entire village is counting on her to save the patient before her. The village has honestly done all it can, but even techniques from the Nara's old records have not succeeded in providing a cure. It has gotten to the point that the reality her patient _will_ _die_, and _painfully_, becomes harder to deny.

Then comes the letter. It is a godsend, a blessing, but instead of jumping at the opportunity, Sakura stood there, uncertain of what to do. The _distance_ and _time_ for this mission stunned her cold – an unknown land off the maps, and a period of two years.

All she thought was no more ramen, no more hospital duties, no more fail dates (granted, at the time, she did not know said date had already cut his hair and rearranged the katakana characters in his name), and no more Konoha.

Sakura did not say _no_, but she sounded rather cold-hearted, or cowardly, or both, to have not said _yes_.

Her hands stop. "I apologize for my indecisiveness, Itachi-san." She is unable to look at her patient in the eye, because what kind of message has she just sent to him? That they might have gained the opportunity to save his life, but she hesitated?

Itachi looks at her some more, or at least in her general direction.

"There is no need to apologize, Sakura-san," he says. "Leaving home can be difficult, even frightening. It was a wise move to ask for time to think, instead of jumping into something you might later regret."

"But Itachi-san-"

He lifts a hand for a moment of her patience. "Sakura-san, I do not wish to burden you with more responsibilities either. Please, you are a young woman who have already put in tremendous efforts, and you do not deserve to be pressured into doing something you would not want to. There are many capable medics willing to take this mission, and I will understand if you decline."

Hearing these words sends Sakura a crash of relief. Sometimes, she forgets who is healing who, as Itachi seems to be doing more good for her health than she can give back.

More guilt settles in. It is not fair.

"Well, I do _want_ to, Itachi-san," she says, her thumb nail digging into the soft skin of another clementine. "Tsunade-shishou said the land has unusual healing techniques, and you know I love learning. Besides, the faster we can cure you of your disease, the faster Sasuke can rid of that sour look on his face, and the faster Naruto can proceed on with planning their big fat gay wedding."

Itachi chuckles.

"You know, Sakura-san, there are other reasons," he says. "One will only see his own shadow when he leaves the shade of the tree. It may be the time for your own adventure outside the orbit of your friends. To discover your potential."

Sakura stops just before the clementine touches her lips.

"I guess."

"Besides, it's also a wonderful opportunity to make new friends or, say, _lovers_, without the interference of an entire village, no?" he teases.

Here, Sakura introduces her forehead to the table. "Oh gods," she cries. "Poor, poor Idate-kun."

Itachi cannot help but be amused at her misfortune. "I did not mean to bring that up."

"No, no, it's fine," Sakura sighs, surgically removing her head from the wood. She slumps and sticks the slice of clementine into her mouth, mulling over Itachi's words.

He has a point. No patrol squads. Going into an unknown land where people can judge her for her. The freedom to break from her routine. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to fulfill that childish fantasy of chivalry, romance, and adventure. Every girl can dream of that twilight fairy tale, can't she?

Huh, when put that way...

"Itachi-san," she says, after much decision weighing, "I think you may have just talked me into the whole thing."

Sakura looks down at the plate of twenty-or-so angrily peeled oranges on her table.

"Clementine?" she offers, extending a slice to him.

He accepts.

In between slices of the sweet fruit, Sakura stares at the floating lanterns in the distance, the expansive deep starry night, the familiar billow of the Konoha air against the curtains, all while exchanging thoughts on the New World and feeling much less lonely on the festive night.

* * *

Two months later, Sakura receives a full dosage of Naruto's whines, his arms wrapped around her leg like a tumorous growth.

"NOOOooo! No, Sakura-chan, you can't go! You- you just _can't!_"

"Na-ru-to! Give it up!" She pries him off.

While Naruto waves his arms frantically, she packs the rest of her medical equipment, travel logs, and legal documents. Past these items, she only has C-rank necessities, and a change of clothes. Sakura is confident she can secure anything else once she arrives.

From the corner, Hinata hands her several medical journals. She winces as Sakura pummels them into her backpack, and suggests a sealing scroll.

"They don't work where I'm going," Sakura says, then deals Naruto another head-whack. "And Naruto, I'm _going_. Don't you want Itachi-san to be better?"

"Well, well, _yes_, but can't someone else go, Sakura-chan? It'll be awful without you at Ichiraku. We'll have to invite _Sai_ instead, and you know I don't like him groping my penis."

Sakura drops an eyebrow. "Sai's coming whether I'm there or not, but _I have to go_. Tsunade-shishou says their knowledge of medicine is better than ours. And since I am Itachi-san's doctor, it would only be best if I studied there. Right, Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke says nothing, but his hands grip the edge of her windowsill hard. He honestly prefers Sakura in the village, seeing as she is of the few people he can share a lunch with. They also work beautifully together on missions, understanding each other's dynamics and knowing when to step back and let the other take over to guarantee the highest efficiency. And since Sakura is also the only one he trusts to place his brother's health in, he has a feeling that after she leaves, his paranoid trips to the hospital will increase exponentially.

But unlike Naruto, Sasuke also remembers how both he and Naruto have abandoned her for years. At the time, Sasuke did not give the slightest consideration for what Sakura might need to put up with, so it would be too hypocritical of him to stop her now. Sakura has the freedom to do what she feels is right, and his inconveniences will not matter.

So Sasuke glances away and gives a "Che, do whatever you want."

Naruto's face falls, and he knows he is fighting a losing battle when the only other support in the room, Hinata, gives a meek smile, equally supporting Sakura's decision.

However, as Sakura slides open the door and readies to leave, trying to conjure up a final snappy remark to Naruto about how she can handle herself, a crowd of faces has her somersaulting back.

"You're leaving?"

"How can you not tell your best friend, billboard brow!"

"How troublesome."

"Good luck, Sakura-san!"

"Yosh, you have our best regards, Sakura-san."

_Bark!_

"At least have one more barbeque with us."

"It's been a pleasure, Sakura."

"I brought the sake!"

Sakura's eye twitch, not because she doesn't find all her friends, teachers, companions, and a billion other people around her endearing, but because she specifically gave everyone notice _weeks_ earlier, and no one gave a crapshoot then.

But what can you expect from these people? She nods and resigns with a "Yeah." She then addresses their concerns, and promises that yes, she will take good care of herself, write home often, and be back, safe and sound, in two years' time.

Several dozen arms wrap around her in a goodbye, and she feels a pang of regret at leaving. But as presents pile up in her arms (packets of cup ramen flavoring from Naruto, a set of shuriken from Sasuke, hairpins from Ino, a windbreaker from Lee, a Kenken book from Shiho, homemade onigiri from Hinata, wooden chopsticks from Yamato, and a billion fortune charms from everyone), and they send smiles, she too musters the courage to not cry.

"Aye, we're not late, are we?"

Sakura looks up to see four more figures at the doorway of her claustrophobic room.

"Kakashi-sensei! Kurenai-sensei, Shizune-san, Tsunade-shishou-"

She is interrupted by spontaneous G-cup breast suffocation, as Tsunade holds Sakura against her chest, and Shizune and Tonton join in.

"Aa, now, now. No need to be overly maudlin," Kakashi says, ignoring Tsunade's fist at him to shut his trap.

"Are you ready, Sakura?"

"Hai," Sakura replies, giving an embarrassed chuckle.

Soon, her friends are accompanying her to the Konoha gate, tagging behind like a giant, multicolored, and extremely bizarre train. Once past the post guards, who send curt nods, Sakura exchanges last hugs, mostly from a boy sobbing snot trails, blabbing on and on about how he will miss her, and a girl who affectionately flickers her forehead.

Kakashi and Kurenai flank her sides, and she is forced to depart. She looks back at the waves and shouts, cries and cheers, the giant wooden sign and towers marking her home, and tries to frame the moment like a picture in the vast expansive of a mind filled with facts and equations.

The breeze blows by her. She basks in the glowing sunlight one last time, the speckled shade of Konoha leafs batting against her skin.

_One will only see his own shadow when he leaves the shade of the tree._

Itachi is right. She needs this, and Konoha will gladly wait for her return.

By the time the eastern gust is gone, so is one Haruno Sakura.


	2. The Threshold to Normalcy

During the first fifteen days, the ship sails past Mist, through the Kumo canal, and into the uncharted waters of the sea. The workers on board are more than accommodating, and provisions are given by familiar faces – Inari, who's grown up to be an ambitious young teen, Suigetsu, who's blade shop is now famous, Samui, who gives them a generous amount of money on behalf of Killerbee, and the Mizukage, who eagerly greets them with feasts and entertainment.

The final stop is on the Eastern peninsulas. They experience some contentions from the weather, but the ride thereafter is smooth, with smoke exhausting from the twin funnels and engines humming contently.

Sakura scans the horizons from the stern of the ship, enjoying the salty currents whip by. Rested against the railings, she inhales the air, reminded of all the past water experiences. Starting from her first rowboat with Tazuna at twelve, there was everything from the chaotic race in the Nagi Islands to the halcyon ride in the Forest rivers, the arctic waters of Iron to the tropic tides towards Moon. Granted, aside from being interrupted by rogue ninjas every other second, Sakura spent the majority of her time enduring Naruto's stunts to impress her and yanking his ass back on board every time they failed.

The corner of Sakura's lips twitches. Without the usual bickering Team 7, everything has gotten quiet.

Before any longing can kick in, there is a shout from the deck.

"Sakura, there you are," Kurenai says. "Care to join us inside?"

Sakura swings around and plants on a smile. She follows Kurenai down the ladders, passing the different cabinets towards a private library, where Kakashi is waiting on a chaise, Icha Icha in hand.

"Ready to swallow another genjutsu, Sakura?" Kurenai asks.

Sakura settles for one of the open chairs. "What am I seeing this time?"

"Transportation," Kakashi says, eyes never leaving his porn.

"Carriages?" Sakura asks.

"More like cars, trains, airplanes," Kurenai corrects. "You should be familiar with most of these?"

Sakura nods. When Kurenai's chakra leaks into the air, she allows it to enter her mind, spark neurons, tamper with her senses, all while she resonates to the creaks of the hull and sways of the ocean.

Everything quiets.

Sakura finds herself on paved road stretching to infinity. Seconds pass, then minutes, her mentors no where in sight. After an immeasurable amount of time, she taps her foot, on the verge of tossing out colorful profanities, when her ears picks up a hum in the distance. Seconds later, she leaps away as metal zips past her and then swerves back an one-eighty before stopping.

The door unlatches with impressive mechanical precision, and a man steps out.

Her mouth hangs open.

"_Kakashi-sensei_?" she says, blown back by his foreign attire.

Kakashi stands before her in a black suit and silver tie, with shades to replace his forehead protector. To her disappointment, the mask remains, but still, it is _Kakashi_, and when he pockets his hands, the wind dramatically blows, and the imaginary ladies faint, she admits her teacher looks...

_Cool._

From the passenger's seat, a red stiletto makes contact with the road, and the overall hotness on the road spiked from a seven to an eight... turned sideways.

But then, the entire mood is shattered by the carefree Kakashi-hello, followed by an excuse of why they are late: he missed a turn, which is not too outrageous, if not for the fact that they are in a genjutsu and there exists only _one damn road_.

Exasperation aside, Sakura focuses her attention back to car. The ones she is accustomed to are bulky, with minimal frames, protruding engines, and body-sized tires. They do not gleam either, hacking up fits every half a kilo or so.

But this one...

"Well, it's prettier," she mumbles.

"We were expecting _edgier_," Kurenai chuckles, waving Kakashi away with a flicker of her wrist, as she slides into the diver's seat. "Get in, Sakura, and I'll show you what cars in the New World can do."

Sakura uneasily steps into the contraption. She still has whiplash from her former simulation on shopping institutions, in which over fifty billion foreign objects were introduced at once, and every cell in her brain simultaneously underwent necrosis.

The doors slide down, compresses, and locks with a click, which triggers more of her nerves.

"This is their main method of transportation?" she asks, mimicking her mentor and strapping the belt.

"Yes, but there are also subways, trains, and airplanes."

Sakura suppresses her discomfort when her mentor presses a few buttons, shifts the crane, and steps on the pedal. Before she knows it, she estimates to be going at twenty... fifty... a hundred kilometers per hour. Then the roof withdraws back, and they reach a peak of one-fifty, a city emerging and other cars spotting the road.

An hour later, Sakura takes a crack at driving, slamming on the gas pedal of her Ferrari and plotting on how to bring one of these machines back home to Konoha.

"SHANNARO!"

* * *

Twenty-one days of genjutsu drilling later, the ship docks on a small island, where a chopper is waiting.

By now, Sakura has grasped an idea of the outside world, everything from its technologies to customs. She has studied over twenty thousand words in the language called English, both regular and medical, coupled with studies of German, French, and Italian. The studies are rigorous, like the two months leading up to the trip, but her mentors deem her qualified.

Her physical appearance also has underwent change. Her flak jacket is gone, her headband buried in her backpack, as she dons on the civilian garbs of Lee's windbreaker and Ino's hairclips. Overall, she is transformed from Haruno Sakura, kunoichi of Konoha, to Sakura, normal teenage girl.

"Remember, it's of utmost importance that you don't expose your identity as a kunoichi," Kurenai gives last minute reminders on their walk to the chopper. "You must pose as a regular civilian student and engage in its activities. We apologize for our limited knowledge. If anything is outdated, you will need to improvise."

"The man you are looking is by the name of _Cullen Carlisle_," Kakashi adds. "He will be your mentor during your stay."

"And also, your first days into the New World will be unpleasant. The air will be thicker, your mind will be foggy, and all your senses will dim. It's as if you've dived head first into a genjutsu. It's typical of leaving the barrier."

"If anything arises, seek out messenger birds; they will be scarce, but still exist."

Sakura keeps in mind their advice. She stops before the chopper and bows politely to the pilot, who greets her back in her native tongue, only with a distorted Iwa accent. The language is Japanese, she understands. He beckons her to the passenger seat, but just as she is ready to board, Kurenai stops her.

"Oh, and Sakura, before you go, your hair needs fixing."

Sakura stops in her tracks and glances at the strands of her hair in her peripheral vision. "Huh?"

"The pigment of your hair is unnatural in the New World. Dark shades are the most common, followed by mixed blond. The closest color to your is a coppery red, but brown is preferable."

Sakura is disturbed by the news. Her hair has been her signature, the color she identifies with. Her very name stems from her hair, and to change it seems _wrong_.

"Is there any way to keep it?" she asks, her fingers wrapped around the frame of the chopper door. She pleads for a yes.

Her mentors exchange a look.

"Well, the New World has artificial dyes too," Kakashi comments. "She can claim it's dyed."

Kurenai remains uncertain. "Yes, but can we risk attention? To our knowledge, it _exists_, but it's _uncommon_."

"Just a quirk. People will overlook it," Kakashi dismisses.

Kurenai folds her arms. "No offense, but I am not quite sure your opinion of inconspicuousness counts, Mr. Copy-nin, son of the White Fang, pupil of the Yellow Flash, teacher of the former international criminal, the loud-mouth savior of the world, and the number one medic of the shinobi continents."

Sakura gives a weak chuckle. "Um, technically, number two..."

Kurenai sighs. "Anonymity is critical, something you all fail miserably at, I'm afraid. The pink must go."

"But- but... oh, come on!" Sakura breaks down to a whine. "It's not _orange _or anything."

Kurenai remains unrelenting. Unlike the infamous team 7, _her_ pupils conceal their noble lineages well. Hinata is unheard, Shino unseen. Even Kiba is too much the stereotypical boy-next-door to attract much attention. _They _do not have their names internationally published by the age of sixteen, which, as awesome as that sounds, ruins the whole point of being _ninjas_. Ninjas creep, ninjas backstab, ninjas disguise and poison in the night. Ninjas do _not _engage in epic battles with demons and batshit crazy criminals in broad daylight in front of the whole world, all while dealing much property damage and sidelines casualties. It is about time that Kakashi and his team learn that.

And _yes_, the details matter, because attention brings curiosity, which brings inquiry, which brings observation, research, and ultimately, exposure. And exposure in the New World spells out full-blown nuke-tensei apocalyptic disaster for everyone.

Kakashi and Sakura believe Kurenai is being dramatic. Because, come on, human beings are compassionate, understanding, sentient creatures who have long overcame their short-sighted, barbaric selves that engaged in continual destruction for control, superiority, power, and wealth. That, and the New World is too stupid to realize that chakra is an endless, freeflowing source of energy, still fighting in the dirt over flammable rocks, to pose any threat.

"It's just _hair._"

"Unnatural. Now, black, blonde, brown, or red?"

Sakura groans and twirls her fingers. Her pink hair darkens to an auburn. She grimaces at her reflection in the chopper door.

"You look wonderful, Sakura," Kurenai says.

Sakura does not know how to tell Kurenai that she finds herself _extremely _ugly without the pink, not because her non-existent sex appeal somehow decreased, but because this _isn't her_. But then again, _that is the point_. Sakura is undercover.

"That color is acceptable, but keeping the henge will be tiresome. You might need the dye itself. The permanent kind," Kurenai adds as an afterthought.

Sakura puts down her foot. No way. "I'm fine with henge." At least that way she can let it down and be herself when no one is around.

"A henge is a good, safe way to keep her chakra skills from getting rusty," Kakashi gives his rare moment of helpful inputs. He can empathize with Sakura's identity crisis, having gone through a thousand or so himself throughout his career. Kurenai reluctantly concedes to the compromise.

Several last-minute drilling later, Kurenai and Kakashi confirm that yes, Sakura is ready, more so than anyone will ever be. Sakura's ability to absorb information is phenomenal, to utilize it, even better. She is, after all, the only girl to have ever scribbled down differential equations, rederived the physics of the world, and made cryptology child's-play on her Chuunin Exam. Even Shikamaru cannot make such a claim, seeing as he cheated off Ino, who in turn, cheated off Sakura.

Of course, Sakura is not as prodigious as, say, _Orochimaru_ (who made groundbreaking advances in the sciences, and practically the founder of DNA, genetics, and molecular biology), nor anywhere near _Itachi _(who at ten, finished his exam in two seconds flat, then proceeded to surmise every error, false assumption, and flaw in logic of the undercover chuunin sources, not a hint of the sharingan in sight and smiling such an arrogant, all-knowing smile that every proctor had undivided attention on him, thus allowing his not-as-competent teammates to get away with the lean-and-peek strategy), but both examples went to become psychotic murderers, so... yeah.

Brilliant, but not insane. And confident for this mission.

There is only one thing left. Kurenai hands Sakura three booklets, one burgundy, one black, one blue, each with Sakura's photo at varying ages, all with dull green eyes and auburn hair. Sakura examines her passports with intrigue and notes how each photograph leaves no impression.

"_Cullen Carlisle _of _United States of America_ is the best option. He is reputable, knowledgeable, accessible, but secluded and obscure to much of the world. However, if he or the country proves to be not enough..."

"I can always pay _Berlin_ a visit," Sakura concludes with a grin, closing her German passport and stowing away all three in her backpack. She jumps into the chopper. "Thank you, Kurenai-sensei, Kakashi-sensei, for all your assistance. _Auf Wiedersehen_!"

"Farewell, Sakura."

"Good luck."

* * *

On 31st of October, 2004, at around one in the afternoon, Sakura lands on James Island, standing at one of the high peek cliffs overlooking the banks of La Push, Washington, United States of America.

The sky is softer than Konoha's blue, pale with layers of stratus clouds, and the weather is acceptable but chilly. Sakura zips up her windbreaker; Konoha is warm year round, and she's unaccustomed to lower temperatures.

Without thought, she jumps off the cliff, landing at the base of a rock. She winces at the shocks crawling up her body. Her timing is off, and her instincts are muddied. There is a small buzzing in her ear and mild headache. Overall, she feels as if she has been running on nothing but caffeine injections for the past decade.

Sakura tests a flicker and relocates to a strip of sand, just short of the waters. She estimates the chakra depletion rate at ten times higher than normal. Limited, but doable.

"_I guess I can live with this_," she sighs, adjusting the strap of her backpack.

Now, how to get off this island...

She is in the middle of formulating a plan, when suddenly, she spots a lone cedar canoe in the waters.

Several universal body gestures and shouts later, a girl with braided black hair and copper skin leaps onto the island. Fur jacket over a tank, cargo pants and boots. Beautiful curves, very lean and fit, and a hint of icy fierceness in her eyes.

"Alright," says the girl, digging an oar into the sand. "_Who_ are you, and _what on earth_ are you doing here."

Once Sakura fights back the blush creeping onto her face, she recomposes herself and tests her language skills.

"My name is Sakura."

"Leah Clearwater."


	3. Trial of the Clearwaters

Sakura is something for sure. Besides the bizarre appearance and clothes, she also has the funniest mannerisms and speech, which consists of a heavily accented British English with robotic grammar. Then there is the x-ray eyes, straight posture, and unfaltering poker face, with an occasional overly-sweet, girly smile chipped in from time to time that makes the chick a little too E.T. for Leah's taste.

Definitely an outsider, but this is the first time she has seen someone from another country. Leah debates between Ireland and Germany, before she sees the girl bust out a pair of chopsticks and throws her guesses out the window.

"So where are you from again?" Leah asks outright after a long period of silence, one hand swirling a glass of ice tea.

Sakura drops the piece of shrimp back on her plate. She politely sets her chopsticks aside, only to abruptly seize them again and set them down a second time.

"I-" The words are lodged in the back of her throat. She swallows. _Calm down, calm down_, she thinks to herself.

Ever since the canoe ride ever, Sakura has been overly conscious of everything – how she acts, talks, even breathes. The increasing skepticism across Leah's face meant _something_ she is doing is blatantly off. Only she has no idea _what_. She has tried to cover it with smiles, polite gestures, everything to seem amiable, but nothing has worked.

"I am..." And there is Leah's piercing gaze, scrutinizing and icy and harsh. Sakura is unnerved by that stare. It is too intruding, rude, and _familiar_. A flush creeps up her face.

"Ex-excuse me." Sakura abruptly stands up. "Where is restroom?"

Leah raises an eyebrow. "Down that way."

Sakura dashes off, spinning around a waiter, and disappears behind twin doors.

Leah watches her go, then shrugs and takes a sip of her tea.

By the time Sakura returns, the remaining entrees have been served. Leah is harpooning a piece of crab with her fork.

"I am from west," Sakura says, picking up her chopsticks once more.

The crab stops short of Leah's lips. "West, huh. So, what? The Pacific Ocean?"

Sakura laughs. "You can say that." Her former behavior is unacceptable. She helped Hinata get over her stammering and eased Sai out of his social ineptitude. If she cannot handle something as simple as a conversation, she might as well go home now.

"So why are you here?"

"There is person who I must see."

"Relative?"

Sakura finishes swallowing. "Teacher. This is first time I meet him, and I am excited."

"This is a study abroad? You come here with anyone?" Leah reaches for her glass. Well, this is interesting. It is not everyday La Push, or Washington for all that matters, gets international visitors. Yeah, there are the mountains, and the scenic American frontier vibe, and whatever crap tourist brochures propagates. But unless someone is a nature fanatic, everything is weak compared to places like L.A., New York, Vegas, Chicago, or Miami. In fact, Leah is inclined to think that Seattle loses to _Denver_, which is pathetic indeed, so why this girl is here has bothered her to no end.

But now that they are talking, much of the mystery is unraveled. Her instincts can stop nagging at her, and her Quileute blood, along with fifty hundred different spirits and ancestors, can just quiet. Leah prefers to not fall back on superstitions and xenophobia and waste away an entertaining day.

"No, I am alone." Sakura mimics Leah and reaches for her glass as well.

"Impressive. How long are you staying?"

"That is not confirmed. I came to learn, so until I am done learning."

"What are you studying?"

"Ah, pulmonology. I am not knowledgeable in this field, as lung are too delicate to examine, but I find it fascinating..."

"What's that like?" Leah resigns in her chair and listens as Sakura explain in further detail. Leah does not know what came over her earlier. In the crickety shack of La Push's busiest seafood restaurant, Sakura is far from the most unpleasant, especially considering loudmouth Bill and Harley, who are once again rubbing verbal friction on the other side of the room.

The rest of the lunch proceeds smoothly, and by the flan, Sakura is posing the questions. "Leah-s... Leah, may I ask what do you do?"

Leah places down her fork. "What I do?"

A nod. "Profession."

"I'm a senior. I'm not anything yet."

Sakura furrows her eyebrows. "What profession are you a 'senior' of?"

"High school."

Eyes beam. "What is your high school like?" Perhaps she can gather information faster than she thought.

Leah groans. "I'd rather not talk about that," she growls, violently scrambling her flan. But the fuse has been ignited, and before she knows it, she is ranting about everything from bastard World History teachers to the inadequate locker rooms to her on-and-off relationship with Sam.

"It's an ongoing experience of bad people, bad food, bad romance," Leah concludes, running a hand through her hair. "But you know, that's pessimism speaking. It's been fun."

"So if you are still student, may I ask what you decide as your study?" Sakura questions.

"Yeah... that, I haven't thought about it much," Leah says, shuffling her dessert back and forth on her plate. "I never planned on going to college or anything."

"As long as you can do what you enjoy." Sakura finishes with a smile.

There is no reply.

* * *

"Where are you staying again?" Leah asks once outside the restaurant, slinging her jacket over her shoulder. The sky is heavy as usual, just after another drizzle, but the air has a fresh mix of seaweed and salt. It is perfect for a walk around the beach, as Leah usually does to release her frustrations. "If so, you should get there before it rains."

"Actually, I-"

"RAWR, I'M A WEREWOLF!"

A jumbled mass pounces on Leah from behind, nearly toppling her over. One jab later, Leah has the werewolf clamped under her arm. "Sorry, you were saying?"

Sakura loosens her grip on the shuriken in her palm. "Ah..."

"Jeez, can't you be gentler- Hey, who's this, sis?" asks the werewolf after he frees himself. He takes off his wolf mask and looks at the stranger with wide eyes. Russet colored skin, and shaggy, black hair. Thirteen or so.

"Mr. Werewolf, meet Sakura."

The boy curiously examines Sakura, before a smile emerges.

"Cool. Seth," the boy greets, extending a hand. "Where you from?"

After deeming the boy harmless, Sakura shakes his hand and returns his smile. "I am from west."

The boy appears puzzled until realization dawns. "Oh! Hawaii! _Nice_. I thought you were a tourist. But wow, man, Hawaii's kinda tough to beat. We ain't got much here except the beach and a bunch of gift shops... Wait!" An idea hits him, and he slings both arms back. "Hey, you should join the Halloween bonfire with us! We can beat Hawaii at that. Our pops makes the _best_ barbeque fish and his stories are-"

"_Seth_," Leah warns, pinching her brother by the ear.

"Whawhat?"

"You don't invite someone you just met to these things," she growls.

"Huh? Why not? She's your friend, ain't she?" To Sakura, he gives a silly grin and asks in a louder voice, "Say, you don't have anywhere else you've gotta go, do you, Su... Sa... Sakara?"

"I do have time."

His grin stretches wider. "Then it's settled! Come on, sis and I will give you a tour. Oh, and here." Seth rummages through his backpack. He tosses another wolf mask to her. "Take this! You gotta have one on Halloween, man." He eagerly straps back on his own mask.

Sakura examines the plastic mask, brown, with a cartoonish depicting on an angry dog, like the ones during festivals back home. She cannot help but let out a small chuckle at how cute it is. And for a second, she actually thought it is an ANBU mask.

She straps it on.

"And sis-!"

"No chance," Leah rejects, pacing ahead.

"Aw, but you put them on when we were little!" He dashes off after her, before turning to Sakura and giving a giant beckoning over. "Come! The official Clearwater tour has begun!"

* * *

After an extensive tour through the coastline, a museum of Quileute tribe artifacts, and several shops selling exotic baskets, fur blankets, and charms, Seth leads Sakura by the wrist to a gathering at the beach. Evening is falling, and Sakura spies people dressed in even more bizarre clothes, from bedsheets and wings to cloaks and helmets. Earlier, there have been a string of children strutting around with orange baskets in hand.

"... and then, it swooshed down into the sea, akin to a flash of lightning jolting the waves, and upon it's return..."

"A whale, a whale!" a group of children cries in unison.

"Yes! A whale the size of mountains fished in its claws, dropped before the chief and his people. His prayers reached the heart of the Great Spirit. They were saved them that winter, and the people never forgot the day the hunger and death ended."

"Yay!" The children cheer, before drumming in the distance arouses their attention.

The storyteller cups his ear. "What is that, I hear? Who here has the courage to explore what beholds this strange sound?"

The children beam and dash off to the celebrations.

Giving a chuckle, the storyteller picks up his wooly hat from the sand and pats it clean.

"Pops!" Seth calls, darting over.

The storyteller looks up. "Seth, my boy! There you are!"

"Meet Sakura!" Seth introduces. "She's from Hawaii!"

"Well, hello there. Name's Harry," he greets, giving Sakura a hearty handshake. "My, what large eyes and sharp teeth you have. You wouldn't be the Dask'iya would you?"

"Hey! Uh no," Seth defends, "no she's not! We all know Dask'iya is fat and ugly, and Sakura is small and pretty! Err, well, under the mask." He laughs, scratching his nose.

Sakura blinks.

Did someone just call her _pretty_? No one calls her _pretty_ back home. Strong, sure. Reliable, okay. Crazy insane bitch, sometimes.

Just not _pretty._

Cue moment of self-indulgent narcissism. The compliment is enough for her to tuck a strand of hair back and giggle in a ridiculously feminine manner that will make her teammates blanch in horror, because that has not happened since her fangirling days. But you know what, they can fuck off because Miss Haruno has just been called _pretty_.

Oh yeah, she likes this kid.

"Seth, should I be worried it's not the child-eating ogress part that you're concerned with," Leah interjects, leaning an elbow on her brother's shoulder. "Dad, Seth invited Sakura to the bonfire. Is that alright, or-"

"Leah! My girl, you're actually here! Of course it's alright!" Harry exclaims, arms wide. "Come, come, we have music, we have food, we have dance!" He beckons them towards the crowds.

Before Leah can object, Seth jumps on her back, arms wrapped around her neck. "RAWR! Thattaway, minion!" he commands, pointing his index in the direction of the banquet tables. "Me hun-gary!"

In response, Leah elbow-jabs his ribs, then hurls him into the sand. "Not even in your dreams," she deadpans. Then, rolling her eyes, she lugs his corpse towards the feast.

Sakura is about to follow when her senses activate.

"Watch out!"

In a split second, Sakura spins around and catches the incoming ball. The impact causes her heels dig hard into the sand but nothing to toss her out of balance.

From her peripheral, she sees a boy running in her direction.

"Nice catch!" the teenage boy says. He snaps his fingers and raises his arm high in the air. "Here."

She tosses the ball back to him.

After nearly toppling over from the impact, he recovers and stares at her with a devious grin. "_Sweet_ throw too. You interested in joining our game, man?" He jerks a thumb towards the group of boys behind him.

"Game?" Sakura mumbles, looking to see the gang by a net, all impatiently hollering. "I do not know the rules."

"Psh, you think any of us cares about the rules?" he laughs. "Just hit it over the net." He makes an arching motion with his arm, then nods his head in the motion of the volley match. "Just watch."

Since her not-so official tour guides disappeared, Sakura decides to just go with the flow. Maybe she can categorize this as cultural studies.

"Ah, okay..."

"_Sweet_!"

Sakura follows him down to the nets, where she is eyed by six other boys, tall and well built. Not all eyes are as friendly.

"Quil, what's the meaning to this?" demands one of the boys.

The boy she met first, Quil, busts into a readying position, knees bent, butt out, grin in place. "Oh, we got a new player. Balances out ya know," he explains breezily, wiggling in excitement.

"Since when did you call the shots-"

"Hey dude, take pity," laughs another boy. "They're losing like what? Five hundred to zip?"

"Hey, hey, listen to him," Quil says. "You stole my best man. Throw us a bone!"

A pair of eyes land on Sakura. Then, a snort. "Have it your way. Like he can save you guys."

All the boys ready into position. The tallest of them tosses the ball in his palm several times, testing its weight. He looks once at Sakura, before shaking his head. "Nineteen - three."

Before anyone can react, the ball is a spinning meteor in the sand. "Dammit, Jacob!" Quil exclaims in exasperation. "At least give the newbie a chance!"

Huffing, the server named Jacob readies the ball. "Twenty – three."

Sakura notes this second serve is lighter, though far from being slow.

"Got it!" One of the boys on her team bumps it up, but the ball goes awry. Cursing out loud, Quil dives down and saves it at the last second; the third and final player whacks it over.

A smirk. Almost immediately, the ball is spiked back over the net and down into the sand.

Quil groans from his down position. "Oh, come on!"

The server grins. Sakura's teammates have no luck on the next, but hits the one after. Only to have the ball over to their side again, smashing into the sand a feet few away from Sakura, who has stood still the entire game.

"That one was for you!" a teammate barks at her, as the other side watches in amusement. Quil makes the arching motion with his arm again and mouths, "Just get it over the net."

Sakura stops examining the game and nods. Well, if he insists that is all there is to this...

"Twenty three – three."

She skates across the sand, directly where she calculates the ball to land. If that is all there is to this...

_Smack_.

… then it is a pretty easy game to win.

Everyone gawks at the sizzling crater in the sand.

"Holy..."

"_Shit_."

Only one boy remains unaffected, as he picks up the ball and twirls it once in his hand. He tosses the ball up and down in his palm, feeling its weight again.

"Out of bounds," Jacob casually states. She frowns. But his lips are twitching upwards, and there is now a spark in his eyes.

Well, that answers the last of her questions. So there is a boundary line after all, a difference from the volley she plays with her friends back in Konoha. Also no jutsus and her opponents got one giant growth spurt.

No problem.

Sakura cracks her knuckles and positions herself, eyes sharp, ignoring the stares of her teammates. She does not expect a soft serve this time.

"Twenty four – three. Game point." The ball is served precisely to her, she cartwheels, and the rest is history.

* * *

There are twenty or so steaming craters in the sand. Sakura gingerly hops off the net and pats the sleeve of her windbreaker.

"We..."

"...lost?" Quil stammers, a glaze of water in his eyes, before collapsing to his knees. He outstretches his arms and howls to the heavens in a dramatic cry of agony and defeat.

Sakura only gives a sympathetic smile, before picking up her forgotten backpack. "I am sorry. Thank you for inviting me to this game. It is fun."

Meanwhile, the opposing team is lying on their bare backs, unable to catch enough of their breath to give any comment. Only Jacob, the former server, still has the energy to sit and gasp out a "Wait."

She turns around, just in time to see him give a strained thumbs up.

"Good... good game, man. You're tough."

She smiles from behind her mask. "Thank you," she says sweetly, giving a wave. As she walks away, Jacob chokes on his spit.

"Sakura?"

Upon hearing her name, Sakura spins ninety degrees to see a thirteen year old peel off the mask of a stranger. "Oops, wrong person! Sorry!"

Seth dashes to the next person wearing the same mask and repeats the process.

Sakura lifts her own mask. "Ah, Seth-ku- Seth."

Instantly, the boy turns his head. A second later, Sakura feels his weight nail her side, arms wrap around her waist. "We've been looking for you!" he cries, pushing her towards a mass of people. "They're about to start the bonfire! But not before _I _tell you the scariest story alive, err, dead. It's about vampire-zombies living in the Antarctic and it is AWESOME. Feel free to hold onto me anytime."

The difference between a Sakura of twelve and a Sakura of eighteen is that the while the former would have dropkicked you five hundred meters high in the air at the suggestion, the latter finds your upfront behavior as cute as kittens, and she would love nothing more than to dangle a string in front of you. It is adaptive behavior, seeing her dropkicks now has the power to land you somewhere in the asteroid belt.

Similarly, unlike her younger self's absolution to win, she now cuts her opponents slack. _Especially _in volley, when she and Lee finally agree to give Naruto and Sasuke a decimal chance after two hundred consecutive wins. Naruto and Sasuke refuse to stop playing until they win, even if it takes fifty Orochimaru's life-extending body switches. But you would think that Naruto would realize that no, Rasengan just doesn't work here and he should stop trying to _make _it work via hardheaded determination and therapy banter. Or you would think that Sasuke would understand that the volleyball is in no way sentient and torturing it in endless Tsukuyomi will accomplish nothing.

"That sounds wonderful," she says, eagerly listening to Seth's story of the so-called Cold Ones.

Then she proceeds to return the favor and narrate about ninja zombies living on islands in the Pacific, with demonic soul-tearing foxes and senile delusional illusionists chucked in. And maybe a billion self-replicating blobs of naked homunculi erupting from volcanoes. Ooh, ooh, and then there is the creepy snake dude that likes cutting open stuff and dressing up little boys in stripperific clothing!

All of which might not be the best idea, as Seth becomes a permanent accessory of Sakura's arm for the remainder of the night, screaming at random intervals and suffering from what some psychologists diagnose as post-traumatic stress disorder.

* * *

The fire crackles, drums beat, and silhouettes dance. Seth breathes deeply from his place on the floor, sprawled out, head leaning against a log.

Sakura sits inches away. Her fingers fidget with her mask as she watches the dancers.

A hand lands on her shoulder.

"Harry-san," she greets pleasantly.

Harry settles besides her on the log and hunches forward, chuckling. "Just plain o' Harry will do."

Sakura freezes, then smiles.

"Harry," she tries again, keeping a friendly facade.

"You're not really from Hawaii, are you?" Harry asks. The fire dances on his dark skin, and there is an inquisitive sparkle in those wrinkled, aged eyes.

His voice is assured, and Sakura understands that she cannot fool this man.

"In fact, you're not from any place we're aware of," he continues, watching the crackles and sparks, the curls of ashes against the black, twinkling sky. "There is currently a boy named Jacob running around, looking for a girl in a wolf's mask. He is destined to become one of the strongest and best of our tribe, and yet he almost lost to her.

"My girl, Leah, with the keenest of eye and sharpest of senses, gifted with the ability to track and bar danger as soon as it arrives, came to be trusting instead of hostile.

"Me, my hands. I can dip my hands in a stream, and pluck fish out of the water. Fish cannot sense my presence. And yet you were not startled when I touched you."

Sakura shuffles her feet in the sand, unable to say anything.

"Who are you, Miss Sakura?" Harry questions, smiling. "Are you actually a sheep under that wolf's mask, for the benign purposes my daughter told me of?" His finger taps the plastic mask on her lap. "Or are you something that makes our most vicious wolf a lamb?"

"I-"

And she remembers the blood on her hands, remembers clutching the head of a shrieking woman, gripping tighter until the parietal bone cracks. She remembers the time flipped the earth inside out, burying a dozen shinobi alive, and along with it, their screams. She remembers a little child tugging the hem of her shirt, crying mommy, and she went home that night, emptied her stomach, and collapsed by the toilet bowl. She has stitched the deepest of wounds; she has cut arteries and watched them bleed. She has mended broken femurs; she has been responsible for breaking them. She has smiled as she cured a little boy of his cough; she has dumped a tube of a deadly virus into an entire village's drinking water.

Sakura is no wolf. She is a kunoichi in wolf's clothing, one that has killed and watched more people die than both her teammates combined, because unlike them, she can compensate her deaths with life. She can remember the girl who could miraculously dance again, the mother who held her newborn with falling tears, the grandfather who was able to see his grandchildren one last time, and they allow her to live with herself next morning.

She can accept herself, with pride or with reluctance.

"I cannot tell you who I am," she says, closing her eyes. "But I am here for life. And for love."

Harry looks down at his sleeping son and shakes his head. "Then the Great Spirit welcomes you to our land, Miss Sakura. Let us hope you find what you seek."

Her eyes open to reveal the sincerest of thanks, as well flickers of determination.

"I promise to not betray your trust."


	4. Belly of the Beast

"I spy with my little eyes... something monstrous approaching."

"You going on about that hurricane in New Orleans again?" yawns the gruff boy on the couch, tossing a football in the air.

"And devastating."

"The 2011 nuclear disaster?" questions the fair haired boy by the coffee table.

"And unforgettable."

"The horrible terrorist attacks already passed, dear," sighs the mother, slicing a baguette.

"And pink!"

"..."

"Is it by any chance the Prada dress in this catalog?" inquires the gorgeous blonde, who finally has a tidbit of interest in her sister's words, because past nonstop numbers on the stock markets, Alice has a tendency to spew out redundant nonsense that they will see on television later anyways. And regardless of what Carlisle says, _no_, the Cullen family is _not_ "quitting the team," "exposing their identities," "tearing apart the family," or "breaking a nail" to use their powers to save unsuspecting citizens from impending doom. Nor help any starving children in Africa for all that matters. They would glitter like mad in all that sun.

Instead, the family shall eagerly await reports regarding new designer clothes or cars or games, because endless consumption of resources on needless, luxurious items is definitely part of their philosophy. The boys of the family and Alice have also been quite eager to get hands on the Wii released in 2006, and along with it, all the zombie glory of House of the Dead _THREE_. Nothing can get better than that, except _ninja-pirate-robot _zombies.

"Nope!" a lithe girl chirps, swinging her legs as she rocks back and forth upon windowsill two story high. "It's a letter! And you shall hear of it in... 3... 2..."

Right on cue, the last child of the family walks in, fresh of pine, hair still damp. In his hands is an envelope.

One glance across the lounge later, spiced up with some mind-reading, Edward raises his hand in surrender. "I will not take responsibility if Carlisle sees we've intruded into his privacy again."

"Psh, like you have a right to talk," Rosalie mocks, leaning back on her chaise, extending her arm. Her fingers pinch the corners of the letter in Edward's hand. With a flick of her wrist, she whips the envelope to Emmett, who tears the letter just as Jasper sets down his newspaper and Alice waltzes over.

Edward readies his way back outside for more game. Unlike the rest of his family, he wants to intrude into people's privacy as little as possible, as unavoidable as it is with his powers. Besides, he missed his last feeding, and the aching hunger is getting bothersome. Plus, the bloodshot eyes are ruining his godly sex appeal.

No one notices Edward exit the house, too absorbed in the letter. Even Esme peeks up from her daily sandwiching.

"Well?"

Alice giggles in mirth. "Ooh, it's a _girl_."

"What!" Esme blurts, her tone a notch higher than her usual melody, her hands clasping the saw knife with ferocity, a sharp glint in her eyes.

The story behind Esme is that as the submissive wife of the golden twenties, she is more than happy to stay in her kitchen, make lousy sandwiches that no one eats, worry about petty things, act incredible shallow and sentimental, give endless compassion and love, allow her husband to be the respectable head and breadwinner of the family, etc, etc. Likewise, as with all quiet, submissive wife of the golden twenties, she has one berserk button. Infidelity.

And as her Protestant roots kick in, she retreats to the corner with the fire-brimming wallpaper, sharpening her blade.

"... who will be arriving here to intern at the local hospital," Jasper finishes in his dry monotone. Esme blinks, before wiping her knife and resuming to slice her baguette, humming sweetly as robins fly out of nowhere to perch on her shoulder.

"Boring." Emmett tosses the letter in favor of returning to his game of catch. Jasper returns to his coffee; Rosalie flips a page of her fashion catalog.

Meanwhile, Alice seizes the letter, eyes beaming with delight as she stares at the words _foreign_ and _Japan._ Her mind swirls to life with kimonos and parasols and much, much gothic lolita with all its frilly glory. And thus, her theme for the week is established, and she shall spent many hours to doll herself up in the presence of this Japanese girl whom she shall meet in so and so days.

Only at the base of their spiral staircase does Alice remember something. "Oh wait, where did Edward go?"

The family looks up from their whatever activities of their unproductive day, then returns to whatever they were doing. "Dunno," they simultaneously state.

Alice pouts. "Oh poo. I wanted to warn him about- Oh well."

* * *

Sakura is in love.

She adjusts the hood, gives a girlish twirl, and catches her breath in the mirror.

Oh yeah, she is definitely in love.

Dark beige, tin cloth, waxed to perfection with rear game bags, blood-proof nylon lining, dual compartment cargo pockets, and triple zippers, everything contoured to narrow her waist and extenuate her missing hip and bust sizes. She pockets her hands, sighs in ecstasy at the interior wool lining, and finds another hidden zipper compartment underneath, fully tear proof, and ideal for stashing soldier pills.

It's _like_ her jounin flak jacket... only _prettier_. Complements fabulously with her hair and eyes.

Damn, is she drooling? But hey, the outside sleeves are guaranteed dust and water proof, so she may drool to her heart's content. And the thought that, yes, she can removed an excess pound of umbrella off her back makes her orgasm in delight. Meanwhile, the detachable inside layers, adjustable snap cuffs, the low maintenance followed with a lifetime's guarantee has left Sakura on the ground in a heaping pile of post-coital pleasure.

And then, there are the _boots_.

"Uh, so your total's twenty-five twenty and fifty nine cents," chokes the cashier who has just had the honor of packing one jacket, two flannel shirts, two pairs of cargo pants, one pair of heavy duty military boots, one packet of knee length socks, one metal grilling rack, one set of pots and pans, one gallon of kerosine, one emergency blanket, five hundred yards of rope, fifty tarps, and twenty meters of copper wire, all bundled up in or near the largest duffel bag Newton's Olympic Outfitters has to offer.

Sakura does some calculations, frugal with her limited fifteen thousand or so dollars, and decides the expenses are reasonable. Reasonable being she just spent her entire life's savings on sporting goods and clothes, a feat on par with Jiraiya's luxurious expeditions. But it cannot be helped, as the exchange rate is 800 to 1, due to the exhausting means of trade to acquire in-date New World monetary.

"Would you like some help carrying this stuff to your car?" the cashier reluctantly offers.

"Outside is fine, thank you," Sakura responds, nonchalantly counting her change, and the cashier, Mike, does not conceal his dismay.

"Uh, so you're going to be camping around here?" Mike asks, bundling the stuff to carry outside.

"Yes."

"That's nice. Where?"

"I am not sure," Sakura confesses, lacing her fingers behind her back in a girlish manner.

"You can go up Highway 101," Mike informs before he dashes back inside to retrieve the rope. "You'll get more peace that way, since it's still hunting season and all."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." He returns with a brochure map. "This place is good," he says, circling a patch of woods. "It's safe, and my family hikes up there all the time." Mike hands her the map. "Here, have it."

"Is that okay?" Sakura questions.

"Well, as of today, you're one of our best customers." Mike waves off the matter. "It's the least we can do."

Mike makes several more trips before he finally collapses in front of the pile outside, panting for breath, holding onto the duffel bag for dear life. Sweat-dropping, Sakura decides maybe she shall resume the man's role once more. She ropes together all her items one move, then swings the entire mountain over her shoulder.

"Thank you for your help," she says, ignoring Mike's gawking, and with a wave, sets out to construct her new house.

* * *

Craftsmanship is not Sakura's strong point. Understatement of the millennium.

Yamato is a genius. He can create a fabulous, architecturally brilliant house within a second. Meanwhile, she is stuck yanking trees out of the ground by their roots, then slicing them via medical splicing jutsus. So the wooden planks are all the same geometrical shape and size, plus or minus one nanometer; it is the _assembly_ part that is a _bit_ more challenging.

Sakura cringes at her first attempt, laughs in embarrassment at her second, and collapses in defeat by her third.

The planks topple over.

"GAH!" One violent earth-slam over, the timber is turned into splintering firewood, and Sakura slumps in a corner to brood.

While she has experiences with impromptu shelters, nothing has prepared her for semi-permanent houses that can withstand this weather, which she predicts will start drizzling again soon. With a sigh, she leans back on one of the logs and conjures up images of how apartments back in Konoha are structured. That is when she realizes her problem.

She shakes her head. "I'm being too Naruto." Naruto jumps into projects and makes it work through trial and error; she plans. But with a startling lack of the determinator around, she subconsciously filled in his part.

One backflip later, Sakura begins to blueprint in the soil. No more fooling around. It is time to bust out all the knowledge of architecture that she has textually gathered since seven, back when she was infatuated with a boy enough to learn hardcore mechanical engineering to impress him (it was obvious from previous flower and bento disasters that she was not getting anywhere with the normal seduction route).

She works out the weights and forces, stresses and torques with much physics and geometry, and by the time she holds down her scroll with a picture of an cabin, a real life cabin stands in its place.

She smiles. Not bad! Not Yamato level, but attractive enough... by her standards. Which is to say, none. Which is to say, the cabin just won the award for ugliest piece of engineering shit in existence. But you know what, she built it with her own two hands, and when you to tilt your head and maybe overdose on some perception-altering pills, you see a face and the cabin upgrades to an adorable-ugly.

Psh, aesthetics is overrated anyways, with their stupid water dragons, toxic puppets, calligraphy lions, camellia dances, exploding sculptures, and whatever else looks pretty but is as pointless as jutsu naming and battle cries.

Besides, her cabin's functional, homey, and protected with secret escape tunnels and trip wires. The back of the cabin merges in with the base of a tree, true to the Konoha tradition. The windows face the meadows for good light, wind, and visibility, and she created sliding wood covers to cover the windows up for when there is heavy rain.

Outside are half-logs holstered to make seats that surround the fireplace. There are wooden racks for her pots and pans, and parallel ropes anchored from the grounds to the trees above, creating the perfect structures to tie tarps on later.

Inside, she has assembled a study table and stool in the front, and a bookcase and chest towards the back. The cabin will serve as her bedroom and study. And should her traps fail, she has engineered a default system that will create a false wall, which will hopefully buy her enough time to take her stuff and scram.

Sakura thinks about creating a surveillance tree house for extra safety, but realizes with disappointment that the trees are deciduous. By winter time, their bare branches will not offer the same protection as Konoha's endless green.

She stretches out her limbs. Still, she has progressed well and after she secures her lunch and dinner, she will write home to notify of her safe arrival and call it a day.

And thus, she is off for some fishing.

* * *

Edward loves solitary walks, the serenity of the forest and absence of minds. He loves to lay in the meadows at nightfall, watching the twinkles of the star after the first clouds clear.

Only, today is not the day for any of that. Today is the day he treks through the woods, his head whirling with one thought: bloodbloodblood.

Going too long without feeding results in many negative consequences – a bitter, dry mouth, dizzying headaches, biting discomfort, fluctuation of the subconscious, a horrible, cranky mood, and the overall appearance of someone who is extremely constipated. Oh, and there is the urge to sink your teeth into anything moving and warm. Bottom line: it _sucks_, literally and figuratively.

He runs his fingers through his hair, lost in muddled thoughts. What he would not give for a nice bear or deer or small foreign girl.

Wait what.

He stops in his tracks. In his mind is a flow of human consciousness that does _not _belong to him. He sharpens his focus, separates the intruder's thoughts from his, and realizes that there is indeed another person within vicinity, although the distance and his distracting hunger prevent him from deciphering any words.

Usually when he wanders around aimlessly, his instincts guide him towards prey. But if said prey is human, that cannot be good. He turns a sharp ninety degrees and continues his hunt elsewhere.

* * *

Sakura is about to munch down on her cooked fish when her kunoichi senses alert of her an approaching presence. Shrugging the matter off, she bites down and savors the smokey taste.

About fifteen minutes later, just as she puts out the fire and readies to leave, she notices the other person has switched directions. Had the person gone ahead a few more minutes, she would have had the pleasure of meeting him or her.

Instead, the person is now on the same path that she will be taking to return to her cabin. They are not far apart. Only two hundred meters, Sakura estimates, and debates whether to reveal herself or lie low.

In the end, she opts to remain hidden. Best not meet people so close to her base. She splashes her face a few more times, wipes clean her hands, and checks up on her reflection, glad her pink is back.

She swings herself up and leaps on a tree branch. Gravity is a fatter bitch than usual, and she needs a moment to adjust herself. The anorexic trees do not help. But she learns quickly and gains enough momentum to traverse through the woods with relative ease.

She catches a glimpse of the other traveler when she passes him. The speckles of the afternoon light gives his coppery hair an almost ethereal and incandescent glow. His skin is also to be desired, almost as perfect as the Uchiha's. Almost. It is just a smidgen too pale. But he makes up for it with excellent bone structures, sharp facial features, and just enough fat to give edge out his chin with a soft look.

Sakura chuckles. He is attractive. If not for the pitch dark eyes and irritated sour expression that she has grown tired of, she might just leap down on the spot and extend her hand in an hello.

Humming, she leaps ahead, her feet making impact with the branches. Pines shuffle, water drops glitter in the air. Various species of plants and animals continually capture her interest. The air is denser, more humid and suffocating, but her lungs have adapted, and she is getting fond of the foreign musky scent.

She inhales contently, when suddenly, her ears pick up something.

She stops, swings around and presses her back to a tree, closing her eyes. Her hand is against the bark of the truck, as she extends the reaches of her chakra. Her eyes open in shock.

A second later, she is flashing through the woods, backtracking to where she spotted the traveler. Without thinking, she swivels on a branch and whips metal into the air.

Her feet makes impact with the ground, and following the sway of the shadows, she hides behind an evergreen. Silently, she turns her head.

A bear falls down to the ground in a weighty _thud_, and she catches the boy with his mouth open, blood staining his teeth, pupils dilated. His entire jaw and upper torso is drenched in red.

He is hurt.

The tips of Sakura fingers are about to glow blue, before she clenches her hand and bites down her lips. _Shit_, she curses, fighting back the instincts of her inner medic. This does not look like a situation she can just wait on, but unless the boy loses consciousness, she cannot help him either.

* * *

Something is wrong, but Edward does not know what. Or rather, he knows, but does not understand the implications nor particularly care. His fangs sink into the wound. The smell of iron is overwhelming, but gods, he is feeling the euphoria of a man receiving his first drop of water after days in a desert.

Only until he is half full does he begin to pick up the subtle annoyances. The taste is off. His jaw is straining to bite down harder but the twist of the muscles is making it hard to do, and the fur is getting in the way. He already has a mouthful of the blasted fur, and some are just pricking his nose as revenge.

Edward _knows_ he is not this messy. Whenever he hunts alone, he first snaps the neck, careful to not spill any blood. Then, he begins preparation, checking to see the animal is dead, shaving a clean feeding spot, and triple checking the surroundings one last time. Only then does he sink his teeth in, and he is clean when drinking, rarely getting any blood on his clothes.

But _something _went wrong. Before he could snap the neck, he smelled the sharp burst of blood and his instincts took over. The break was sloppy. There should have been some reaction from his prey too, but it went down like a log.

Over a gallon down, enough of his consciousness returns, and that is when the fear sinks in.

There is the familiar flow of a single human mind, louder and more vibrant than last time. Close. His eyes survey the area, pick up nothing, but the thoughts ring clearer and cleaner.

Grappled between fading primitive instincts and blurred human reasoning, he opts for the best course of action.

He runs. Fast enough that, hopefully, the person cannot identify his face.

* * *

The boy with the attractive face and coppery hair.

He is not injured after all, and Sakura does not know whether she should be relieved or not.

When his presence completely fades, she steps out of the shadows and stand before the true, fallen victim. A bear, pitifully small, just like the trees of this land, and Sakura claps her hands together for a moment of prayer.

Then she kneels down and extends chakra down to her fingertips. With scalpel-precise incision, she digs her fingers in and retrieves the shuriken lodged deep in its spinal cord. She notes the break in its neck and two deep holes into the flesh. Enough blood has been drawn out for blood to no longer seep out of the wounds.

When she is done extracting the evidence, she steadies herself from the nausea and prepares a grave. It takes one simple earth jutsu to make the site seem undisturbed. Only, she finds herself fatigued, both by the excess use of chakra, a disheartened mood, and the rain, which arrives with perfect timing.

At least it cleans the blood off her hands. Pulling her hood over, she dashes back to her home in silence. Her head is whirling with questions and conjures up some answers. But unless her own welfare is threatened, she will not pursue the boy. From his reaction, it is obvious he does not want her to know.


	5. Challenge 1: A Battle Against Academia

_Mephistopheles enters and speaks his mind: "Y'all crazy mothafuckas." The dark lord then vanishes in a puff of of glitter._ – random contribution from dear friend.

* * *

The door slides open.

"SASUKE! GUESS WHAT!"

Sasuke glares, causing Naruto to slap a hand over his mouth. The bird in his other hand flaps his wings in fright.

Fingers slide down and hold onto Sasuke's hand. "I was awake." Itachi smiles, and his brother calms.

"Is that a bird?" Itachi asks as Sasuke helps to lift him upright.

Naruto approaches the hospital bed and presents the carrier bird. "Sure is!" he declares, letting the bird hop onto Itachi's lap. "Hungry little beast too. Ate like three times his weight."

"It's had a long flight," Itachi murmurs, opening his palm. The bird jumps on, flaps his wing, then settles and lets Itachi stroke him. "This outline is different."

"Oh yeah, he's strange alright. He's got this really funny white beak, and kinda fat and poofy, and dark greyish," Naruto describes in excitement. "Looks delicious to eat too- ow!"

_Dok, dok. _The bird attacks with his beak one more time before he circles the room and lands comfortably on a nest of black hair.

"Don't. Say. A. Word," Sasuke threatens ominously, but the bird perched on his head wiggles in agreement, and Naruto proceeds to roll on the floor.

"Man, Sakura-chan sure knows how to pick 'em," Naruto sighs, wiping away a tear. From his pocket, he then withdraws a letter. "She says it took her an eternity to find him, and that she's naming him Sesu-chan after some kid she met on her first day. Also, because, look, the characters _Se_ and _Su_ make up a bird! See, there's the beak and tail and the two wings-"

"Naruto. The point." Sasuke cuts off his ramble, and the bird jumps off his head to Naruto's shoulder. "What has she found out so far."

Naruto pouts. "This letter is at least nine days old, and I doubt she could even start researching then. But there's all these cool things she's seen like-"

"If it's not about the cure, then get-"

"How interesting," Itachi says softly, and Sasuke clenches his jaw. "Tell me, Naruto. What has she seen?"

Naruto glances back and forth between the brothers.

"Well," he drawls, eyes locked on Sasuke for approval to proceed. Naruto takes the silence as a yes. "A lot of things! First, the people are all taller and pale or dark. They have these funny names in this foreign language I can't pronounce, but it's something like Sesu-kun, Ria-san, and Hari-san, but they're not important, because _we're_ her friends, right guys?

"So they like eat strange food that's gross at times, and don't use chopsticks. Weird, huh? Their clothes are funky too, but she says she likes some of their products, and she's planning on getting a portable photography machine to send us photos. She's also participated in events of the natives, like some fire ritual thing, some dancing thing, and a game of volley. Heh, they sucked apparently. Okay, she didn't say that, but it was implied, okay?

"As for the environment, he says the trees are skinny, like the soil is chakra-malnutritioned or something, and their weather sucks just like Ame's. While the people are bigger, the plants and animals are smaller, and she's been collecting some of the species there to see their medical properties.

"The town is like the Kiri villages, all grey and distanced out, but organized. Their buildings are okay. She saw a library, and she'll start going through their books, but she says it's pathetic compared to ours.

"She'll be going to the school there too as part of her cover, but man, those people must be _idiots_. Heh, we graduated at _twelve_. They're still stuck in school until _eighteen_, suckers! She also saw a bear hunt-"

"That's a jellyfish."

"What! No, it's a bear. That's the ears, and the claws... okay, Sakura-chan isn't perfect at drawing, but I see it... kinda." Naruto tilts his head and the letter. "Huh, I see the jellyfish too now that you mention it..."

"That's a slug, right."

"That's a shoe, Sasuke! Jeez, you're suppose to be the one with the good eyesight but you suck at this! ANYWAYS- wait, did that bird just poop on your head? Wait, no, no, put the lightning away, Sasuke, put the lightning away. Electrocuted birds don't even taste, good- ow! And bird poop is good luck, y'know- wait, don't you two gang up on me now!"

Itachi chuckles.

* * *

_Dear Naruto, Tsunade-shishou, and... everyone._

_I just wanted to let you know that I have completed my first full week of academia at Forks High School. Everyone here is so unique and life is great. I'm having... lots... of... fun._

Yeah. Fun.

Sakura grits her teeth as she marches across the hallways, three textbooks under each arm, a military backpack strapped to her shoulders. She ignores the blaring silence, the turned heads and stares, and the overall awkward atmosphere whenever she passes by. If there is anything she has learned, it is that this school is _not _friendly.

At all.

The first day, she tried to get along, smiled, waved, the whole spiel. She stood in front of the class, bowed, and cheerfully exclaimed she hoped to be friends with everyone. What she got back were about fifteen blank stares, as if she has spouted out tentacles.

The people are stark opposites of the ones at La Push, opting to avert their gazes or keep their silence whenever she approaches. In the very beginning, everyone was not _this _distant, with a boy named Eric introducing himself, and the cashier, Mike, giving a hesitant wave. But then, somewhere between Lunch and Gym, everyone got _real_ quiet.

At first, she thought her cover got blown, but then she started picking up sideways conversation.

"She's so weird..."

"...no one knows where she's from."

"They say she doesn't have parents or anything..."

"...my parents told me she's poor..."

"She's always at school before everyone..."

"...you think she's related to the Cullens in any way?"

And that is when she realize her cover has not been blown. More like she has been designated as gossip topic of the century.

Her problem is basic. Everyone in this building knows each other. And their parents know each other, and their parents' parents, and you can just keep climbing up the generations to the nth factor. They know where everyone lives, they know what everyone's parents do, they know what kind of car they drive, they know whether they've got a barbeque stand or plasma screen.

Enter foreign girl, add in _transfer student_, add in _other country_, and everyone freeze up. Her unusual appearance and hiking clothes do not help. Sakura picked up on this after day one and decided her affirmative countermeasure is...

Ignore.

Friends would be nice, but, now there is nothing to distract her from her mission.

And thus, she struts into Calculus class, determined. She bows to Mr. Varner, who has equally adopted the oblivious route, then drops her books down on the table she shares with the one and only Edward Cullen.

AKA the pretty boy with the coppery hair, whose reaction on her first day revealed to Sakura she was not as low key in the woods as she initially thought. However, he feigned ignorance, so she returned the favor.

"Good morning, Edward," she greets her neighbor, dropping all six books on the table with a loud _BANG_.

"Good morning, Sakura," he responds, his voice soft, somewhat musical, then returns to staring at the chalkboard.

Meanwhile, with her cyclopedic medical dictionary in hand, she opens to the first page of _Disease: Identification, Prevention and Control_ and begins reading, boycotting the entirety of the lesson before her. Her goody-two-shoes side protests, but it cannot be helped. Her reading rate in this language is ten times slower, and to absorb the information takes even longer.

The lesson proceeds, the pencils scribble, eyes occasionally dart up to stare at her or the boy next to her. Every minute or so, she flips another page; every twenty minutes or so, her name is called, and Sakura glances at the board for half a second before, "Y equals nine pi," and returns to reading.

Sometimes it is mandatory to keep up an act. Here, not really, because everyone already believes she hails from another planet, and it is fine to let them keep their assumption. Alien is fine; ninja is when she has a problem.

The bell rings, and she walks out, her nose buried in the book, Edward following her every step. Two doors down, they both turn to Government and the process repeats. Only this time, Sakura is forced to juggle two books at once, which she does not mind, engaged in foreign politics.

English, Sakura and Edward return in the direction they initially came from and sit together again. Only, Sakura is too enthralled in the texts of Bronte to listen to the lecture either. English is the rewarding, because such culture and history is fascinating.

Spanish, she finishes _Disease_ and moves on to _Lung Metastases And Isolated Lung Perfusion_, all while repeating out loud whatever the class is repeating.

Lunch, Sakura retreats into a corner table at the cafeteria, purchases two cartons of milk and five pieces of fruit, then goes on to speed cram, busting out a pencil to transfer the information to paper.

Biology II, she shuts _Lung Metastases_, and is about to proceed to _Atlas of Comparative Pathology of Pulmonary Tuberculosis_, when a voice speaks up.

"You must really want to be a doctor when you grow up."

Edward gives a crooked smile as he passes her a worksheet. Surprised, Sakura takes the paper. They have been sitting together for nearly a week, and she has not been expecting any more exchange from him than their daily morning greeting.

"Yes, I do," she replies, setting down _Atlas._ Or rather, she wants to _continue _being a doctor, having already gained her M.D.

"Might I ask why?"

"People need my help," Sakura says, aware of the looks she is getting in her direction. Conversations around her hush. "I do not want to disappoint them."

"That's rather noble."

"It is more stemmed from personal wish than duty," she says and returns to her book.

One line later, Edward speaks up again. "Are you going to intern at the local hospital?"

Her head is not the only one to turn to him. "Yes, I hope to. How did you acquire this information?"

"My father is a doctor here, and he told us about your application."

"I see."

"This is the first time a high school student tried to intern there," Edward muses. "But I doubt you transferred all the way here just for that."

Sakura smiles. Someone is fishing for information, and not so subtly. "I am sure you will keep your assumption unless I say otherwise."

"Can I continue making assumptions then?"

"Try your best."

"You are Japanese."

"Interesting statement."

"Your parents were doctors."

"Go on."

"You enjoy the medical studies. How am I doing?"

"As I have said, you will keep your assumption unless I say otherwise."

"Is that a yes or no?"

"I am not obliged to tell you anything, Edward," Sakura says pleasantly, keeping her eyes locked on him while turning her completed worksheet to the passing teacher. "Keep guessing."

The next day in Calculus, Sakura flips through the pages of _High-Resolution CT of the Lungs_, while Edward sits next to her, flipping through the pages of _Japanese for Dummies_, both trying to out-flip the other and oblivious to the rest of the world.

* * *

"Just give it a rest." Emmett pats his brother, as they exit Spanish. "She's not into you."

"You can't tell from one conversation," Edward defends, eyes fixated on his _Dummies _book. "And she says good morning, or _o-hai-yo go-zai-mah-soo,_ every day."

"If that is Japanese, it sure as hell don't sound like it. It's more like konichiwa-toshiba-misubishi."

"I'm not joking," Edward says. "She speaks English, but I'm positive she's thinking in Japanese. If I can read her mind, then I can learn whether she saw me that day in the woods."

"I still say you imagined the whole thing."

"I drank _something_, didn't I? And it's definitely _her _mind I heard that day. If she knows about me..."

"If she knows about you, she would run away at first sight of you. Not say 'good morning' or 'oyo gozzy soo' or whatever it is. Bro, I say you're using this as an excuse to see if she likes you."

"I don't like her."

"Really now."

"Honest."

"Good, because from what I gather, she's antisocial, nerdy, and just plain _weird_. With that funny accent and those hiker clothes and all. I heard she has no parents either, and no one even knows where she lives. They say it's the woods. And at lunch, when she eats apples and flips through books, it makes _us _look normal. She's freaky, I'm telling ya."

"The height of hypocrisy," Edward mutters, turning a corner. "I hear her thoughts clear as day, and she's honestly reading medical books. It's not a pretentious act as everyone thinks, and I don't think she deserves all this negative-"

Their footsteps stop. "Well, speak of the devil. She even reads in gym," Emmett says, scratching his cheek.

Edward backsteps and cranks his neck, peering through the window of the gymnasium door. Sakura is indeed reading at the bleachers. Dressed in a spare P.E. uniform, she sits in a corner, isolated from the other athletically challenged students who volunteered to bench.

"Huh, Coach Clapp's not saying anything about the book," Emmett says. "He smacks me if I'm a second late, but he's letting _that _slide?"

A lot of teachers let it slide, Edward thinks. They are not different than the students – they disapprove of her living alone, which, while legal, freaks any Forks citizen out. After Edward learned of her situation from Ms. Cope, the receptionist, it all became formulaic: no parents = no threat; thus, leave her be = best option. Getting involved with a student like that causes problems, and as long as she does not stir up trouble, the teachers want to see nothing.

Edward sympathizes with her, who shares the same dilemma he and his family face. They are all foreigners. Only she is from Japan (according to Ms. Cope) and he is from Alaska, which technically qualifies as an U.S. State so he is not _foreign_ per say, but this school does not offer Geography and does not plan to anytime in the future.

Besides, while humans should reasonably avoid a vampire family, it feels wrong for a normal girl to get the same treatment.

There is the blow of a whistle.

The ball drops, and the students scramble to chug away pennies that reeks of generations of sweat.

"Let's go," Emmett urges, but Edward merely steps aside to let the mob of students exit.

"Go on without me." Edward tosses his brother his car keys. "It's a nice day to walk home today."

Cue howling winds and crashing thunder.

Emmett drops an eyebrow and gives a 'really, man?' look, followed by a 'dude, give it up' thought, to which he is silenced by a glare. He resigns with a 'fine, fine, then look hot and turn up your old ladies charm-'

The thump of a 1.4 pounds _Dummies _book against his skull interrupts the thought.

Emmett rubs his head, then treks backwards while mouthing 'old ladies charm!' and gives his exiting peace sign.

Edward fights the urge to roll his eyes, picks up his book, and waits by the door for Sakura. He has no idea what Emmett is saying. Today is a _fine, wonderfully _rainy day for a _lovely _walk.

But company never hurts.

He has an extra umbrella ready.

Just in case.

* * *

Sakura pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes straining to keep up with the words. She slams shut the book. No more. Her eyes are fatigued, and the light is dimming. She examines the clouds shifting out the window. The rain has finally stopped, and soon, she will see the first rays of twilight.

It's that late, huh, she thinks, stretching out her limbs. Time to head home.

Flipping up, she stows away what textbooks can fit in her backpack and tucks the remaining under her arm.

She kicks the door open.

"Hello Edward," she greets. She will give him some points for patience, but since she also suspects him of being a shinobi, she rather trade those for their agreement of obliviousness. So what if she saw him that day in the woods. So what if he sensed her that day in the woods. As long as they both keep hush-hush, life will be peaches.

But confrontation? That is when things get messy.

Edward forces out a stiff smile. He has been standing here for the past _four and a half_ hours after all, and would have fallen asleep waiting if sleep is physically possible. Nonetheless, he turns up his charm.

"Hello Sakura. What are you doing in school so late?"

"I return your question," Sakura replies sweetly, mildly, with just the tint of a challenge. "Why, what _are _you doing here?"

"Enjoying the weather," he waves the matter off with an excuse only infatuated old ladies will ever believe. "Are you heading home?"

"Yes, I am."

Edward leans an arm against the gym door and tilts his head. "It will be getting dark soon. Which way are you heading?"

WARNING, WARNING kunoichi senses kick in, but Sakura maintains her smile. "South," she lies.

"Same here," he says, unchanging regardless of her answer. "Since we are in the same direction anyways, do you want to walk together?"

Make that three WARNINGs. "Actually, I'm going to stop by the coffee shop first and do some errands. Thank you for your offer, but you can go on ahead," Sakura says, then weaves around him towards the exit.

"Then let me take some of those books for-" Edward stops, his brain drawing blanks. "Wait what?" He spins around to see Sakura push open the main door.

"Good night, Edward. Have a safe commute."

* * *

Maybe I'm being too paranoid, Sakura thinks, taking another sip of tea in Forks Coffee Shop. She replays the conversation and wonders if she might have given up a romantic walk with someone. Shinobi or not, Edward is very good-looking. good-looking to a ridiculous degree, because only henges or Sasuke can have _that _much facial symmetry.

She sighs. She is not naïve enough to believe anyone will engage in anything romantic with her without a secondary agenda, especially not someone as suspicious as Edward Cullen. He is outcasted at the school for a reason.

But what does he want from her? It is hard to imagine spies coming _this_ far to snoop on Konoha. Or maybe he _is_ a native shinobi. That widens his motives to everything from hostile to innocuous.

No, loneliness is clouding her judgment. But what if-

"We're closing, dear," the owner tells her.

Sakura drains the last of her drink, leaves the money on the table, and rushes out of the coffee shop, books under her arms.

As she paces down the streets, she has decided. She will risk it. If the Cullen boy offers again, she will accept. She can gamble trouble for that insane facial symmetry. And if he is plotting something, playing ignorant will only increase her paranoia over time. Might as well find out sooner than later-

A chill creeps up her spine, as she senses a presence behind her.

Without looking back, she calmly turns a corner.

The presence tags along.

She turns another corner.

Still following.

Okay, nevermind. Screw facial symmetry; convents nowadays offer excellent meals, endless old ladies' music, and a remarkable selection of aromatic flowers.

Sakura casually strides to another corner, and before Edward can reach the corner as well, she shunshins out.


	6. Sexy Mentor, Enter Stage Right

Edward is old-fashioned in some aspects – a speech filled with archaic words, manners very gentlemanly in this era, and an attitude so backwards that feminists around the world scream in anguish.

All that stuff aside, he also kinda-sorta believes in the age-old romances of star-crossed lovers, love at first sight, cosmic fate, and so on and so forth. Meaning, if he, by any circumstances, meets a person of the opposite gender (who is Hollywood-fair in appearance) in an odd, unforgettable manner that separates her from everyone else, then he is inclined to believe it means something.

… presumably something significant in the romance department.

… and a supernatural encounter in the woods for may be grounds for said significance.

Sakura disagrees. If she were to build a relationship with every shinobi (who is Hollywood-fair in appearance) who has tried to assassinate, kidnap, poison, disarm, paralyze, hypnotize, or done anything else out of the norm on her first encounter, she would be killed, revived, killed again, enslaved as a zombie, and finally out for good via seppuku. In fact, she goes out of her way to build relationships that begin normal, because she has studied inertia, and relationships that _begin_ normal, _remain_ normal, and those that _begin_ wacky, only skydives at exponentially accelerating negative velocities.

"Hello Edward." So out of all the civilians in the New World, Edward is someone Sakura is the _most_ hesitant to build a relationship with.

"Hello Sakura." Too bad Sakura is someone Edward is _most _interested in as of yet.

"What are you doing here?"

A crooked grin. "I think I'll 'return your question,'" he says, pleased with his slap of irony.

Only, her response is a small, worried crease between her eyes. "Did I already not confirm that I wish to intern at this hospital?" she asks in a tone that suspects him of brain damage.

Edward blinks, and all images of whistling trees and speckled light disappear, plopping him in a lobby that strongly smells of wet wood, rubber, and rubbing alcohol. "Oh. Right," he says. "My father works here."

"You have told me before."

"Yes, I did... and, ah... I came here to see him."

"I see."

Sakura returns to Mr. Brett Warner, the nurse filling in at the front desk, and accepts the clipboard. "Thank you," she says, before settling down on a bench to fill out the corresponding paperwork.

"Hey, Edward." The nurse gives him a simple grin and the jerk of a thumb. "Carlisle's currently in his office. I'm sure he's free, so you can drop a visit right now."

Edward takes a quick glimpse down the hallway, then another glance at the girl, before a ridiculous thought flashes to mind. He ends up following the whim and leans on the desk. "Actually, Brett, may I ask you to print out another set of applications? I've been thinking about interning here recently."

Both eyebrows shoot up. Then, a chuckle, as Brett swings his office chair. "Sure kid. So you're thinking about following your dad's footsteps, huh?" Paper processes hotly out off the printer, of which Brett snaps onto a clipboard. "You know, a star student like you won't need it, but it's a good college app booster."

With a degree from Harvard Med, Edward does not think he needs the so-called 'boost.' For some reason, he is certain Sakura is not doing this to look good for colleges either.

* * *

Carlisle Cullen. Mid-twenties. Sophisticated silvery hair and deep honey-colored eyes that screams wealth, nobility, and stature. Gorgeous enough that any portraiture or photoshopping will only degrade his godly appeal, not enhance it.

Now, upon first meeting there several reactions his presence will evoke.

If one is of the male population, then expect awed eyes, incoherent words, and a flustered handshake followed by, "Oh it's... you're... wow, you're young, doctor," or some other hopelessly redundant remark of the like.

If one is of the female population, then expect uncontrollable eyelash batting and a bombardment of butterfly hand gestures, as they converse of nontangential, highly predictable topics such as, "Oh Mrs. Cullen must be _such _a lucky woman."

Or if one is of an indistinguishable gender – and after the era of David Bowie, big hair, and the crazy 70's, Carlisle has stopped trying to guess – then expect a mix-match of the two, added with some additional quirks that may range from opium-induced nonsense about discovering the cosmic soul together to plain groping.

These are only from his personal experiences, of course, and variation is wide. But statistically speaking, you are right to assume those reactions ninety-nine percent of the time.

Carlisle reveals a tired smile and extends his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Sakura."

Instead of taking his hand, Sakura resumes a strict military pose and bows. "It is my great honor to meet you, Dr. Cullen. I am humbled to be accepted as your pupil."

And thus, statistics got thrown out the window.

Both Carlisle and Edward are taken aback. Carlisle exchanges a look with his son, but from Edward's baffled reaction, he does not have a clue either.

"Ah, actually, I'm pleased you took the initiative to apply. It's good to know there are teenagers who want to be involved in their community," Carlisle approaches cautiously, kindly. " Your resume is also impressive. You've been interning at your home hospital since you were..." He flips the page on his clipboard, and blinks back his surprise. "...thirteen?"

"Yes." Sakura bows again.

"Sakura, you don't need to do that," Carlisle laughs, gently patting her up. Then, to the third person in his office, he asks, "And Edward, what brings you here?"

"Check the second board."

"You wish to intern as well?" Carlisle keeps his tone calm, but Edward can read his sporadic train of thoughts, and Sakura can sense his elation.

"I felt like it was about time," Edward says, pocketing his hands. "You've always been my first and greatest role model."

The light in the doctor's eyes is enough to overshadow the tired, dark circles, the pale chalkiness of his skin. Carlisle is indubitably the happiest vampire that moment, and he makes it known through a sudden gush of enthusiasm, pushing both teens out of his office, "Well, then! Let us get started," and hands a stomp curb tour.

Open door. "Pediatrics." Close door.

"Lobby. Hello Brett."

"Examination."

"Patient ward."

"Records."

"Radiology, CT."

"Waiting room. Good day, Brett."

"Delivery and neonatal."

"Cafeteria."

"Closet."

"Receptionist. Just giving a tour, Brett."

"Surgery."

"Pharmacy."

"And finally... lab." He presents a dingy, unpromising door. "Pathology, microbiology, and biochemistry."

The room is cramped and clustered, a plain office with equipment messily plopped amidst papers and two bulky analyzer machines. But the magic of the place, with its sterile smell and myriad of tubes and bottles, dishes and pipes, remains, and Sakura is entranced.

"This place used to be nonexistent, with just a broken computer," Edward says proudly. "But after dad came, he did a lot of work to make this place an actual hospital."

A soft laugh. "I had some connections with universities on the east coast. I managed to convince them to ship us their old lab equipments." And I was so close to getting that TEM too if the superintendent didn't get in the way, Carlisle thinks, inwardly sighing in disappointment.

Sakura is tracing her fingers down the neck of a microscope hooked up to large monitors, in a mixture of awe and adoration similar to the statistically-not-proven reactions described earlier, when Edward steps up.

"That's a microsphere _nano_scope, one of a kind_._"

She looks up and breathes, "Technological advances have truly begun to break the barriers of reality."

To map the entire human genome. To alter life forms. To create machinery that heal as well as hands. To see, to _move_ atoms one by one.

Without the assistance chakra, the people of the New World could only observe nature, their only available mentor. Watched the pea plants grow, the planets trace, the birds soar across from one island to the next. But their desire to know pushed them, their reason led them, and the unlimited potential of the human imagination unlocked one door after another until they stand here today with the universe within their grasp. Quantum physics, exploration of the moon, the digital revolution; not bad for a primitive civilization still grovelling in the dirt for flammable rocks.

And the shinobi lands, as advanced as they are now exploiting the energies of the earth and heavens, will only fall further and further behind.

As the screens light up and Sakura sees images of the unimaginable, she feels her throat constrict. Fantasy is merging with reality, and Sakura begins to understand why she is chosen. It has nothing do with her specialization nor knowledge, her sense of duty to the village nor her own personal ties. As Itachi said, there are many capable medics.

But some things can _only_ be swallowed by someone still impressible, fluid in thought and adaptable to change, intellectually growing and capable of absorbing foreign ideas and being molded by them.

Someone _young_.

"I read before, but I believe now," she whispers. She turns to Carlisle, and bows once more, her voice sombre. "Dr. Cullen, I will devout myself to assisting you. In exchange, please allow me to pursue independent research."

There is an intensity in her eyes, a die hard determination in her voice that etches deeply into Carlisle's memory and overshadows all the fluttering eyelashes or gushing fawning of his past pupils. Sakura leaves the impression of someone unyielding, stricken cold with disillusionment yet burning with a new lust for knowledge, for _truth. _ Carlisle sees not another girl, but a reflection in a broken mirror shard, the raw blood-red eyes that has stopped worrying the petty, the insignificant, but realized the full potential of oneself.

"Of course." Carlisle smiles. He believes he made the right choice, to accept an intern yet again when all past examples failed.

And Edward, flooded with images and thoughts and this fervor_, _this _passion, _from both parties, is still in the land of wet wood, alcohol, and rubber, alone in a rickety, claustrophobic shack containing mountains of papers and messily plopped equipment.

"May I partake in research too then?" he questions, waving a hand, but Carlisle and Sakura are too busy riding the same neurological wavelength –_to seek enlightenment and reach self-actualization, to thread together separate worlds and shatter the barrier of taboo and superstition, to progress into a future unbound by the limitations of laws nor nature, to discover and redefine humanity_ – to hear him.

Yeah, Edward will interrupt this stream of overly maudlin propaganda and say he sees two people absolutely mesmerized in each other's eyes, lacing hands and going gaga, with a bunch of fairy sparkles in the foreground and fireworks of streaming science in the back.

"Uh dad?

"Sakura?

"Hello?"

Meanwhile, so-and-so miles away, Esme is hit with a sudden urge to plaster fire-brimming wallpaper on the kitchen walls and sharpen her knife.

* * *

After successfully reciting all the safety procedures and proving her abilities in three easy lab demonstrations, Sakura finds her research proposal approved. The sky releases another drenching shower, but she shakes the water from her hair and spreads her arms wide, twirling in between the droplets.

She breathes in the damp, earthy richness of Forks.

"Wait, Sakura!"

And not even a creepy-shinobi-stalker is going to ruin her mood. Besides, Sakura feels she may have misjudged Edward because his father is a man of excellent character. Her guard is not down but more open.

"Edward." She blinks at the umbrella above her. The muscles in her body releases tension, and her hand stows away the shuriken in her palm. He moves fast.

"Forks is prone to raining," Edward uneasily begins. "You should buy an umbrella."

Sakura tilts her head, scrutinizing for his intentions. "Umbrellas are heavy," she says, never the one to carry superfluous items.

Her answer has Edward reeling his brain. "I will hold it," he says, gushing with anticipation to assist a fragile lady. He recalls gym, how she never participates. Sakura is not athletic, he concludes, a boost to his male pride. She is more of the delicate, intellectual kind, compensating strength with knowledge. Epitome of a high class noblewoman of his decade, and... it's cute.

He refuses to acknowledge that last sentiment.

No, he is here because he needs to extract information, because he needs to know how much she has seen of his feeding, or else he and his family will be in danger. Granted, Sakura does not strike him as someone with a loose mouth, and the students of Forks will never believe her, but it will be devastating if more rumors circulated about the Cullens. No one is looking forward to moving again.

At first, he decided to just be in her proximity and read her thoughts. But this proved difficult because:

One, he cannot control what Sakura thinks of.

Two, he cannot _understand_ what she thinks of, with abstract images here and there that make no sense. While he has mastered Spanish, French, and Italian over the years thanks to repetitive years of school, Japanese remains an absolute bitch. To complain for decades of his mind-reading powers but rely endlessly on them; he should have just accepted it, and asked for a built-in language translator while he was at it.

So Edward resorts to the old-fashioned way of finding things out. Seduction.

Only, Sakura has trained her younger self to stop overly-analyzing every gesture in a cheesy romantic light, so she cannot recognize seduction anymore even if it is flashing in neon orange letters.

Consequently, the two stand together under an umbrella in the pouring rain, some thunder in the background, with Edward wondering why Sakura is not falling for this hopelessly Hollywood-romantic setup, and Sakura wondering if it is Edward's intention to convert himself into a lightning rod.

"Thank you," Sakura drawls, "but I wish to go now." And not stand here like an idiot.

"Then let's go," Edward urges, persistent in holding the battered, sagging umbrella for her. "Are you going home?"

Intensify thunder, rain, wind.

"What?" Sakura asks, running a hand through her fluttering wet hair.

"Are you going home!"

"I do not understand!"

"Home!"

"WHAT?"

"ARE YOU-"

Oh screw it.

Edward has enough and throws away the useless prop. He demands a lousy, romantic, twentieth-century setting to woo a girl, preferably with light rain and silver linings, not a thunderstorm. Yesterday's storm apparently decided to come back with a vengeance to gain more screen time.

Before Sakura can protest, he takes her across the hospital parking lot. Keys flash in his hand. The next second, the doors slam close, the engine ignites, and they lean back, soaking the expensive seats of his Volvo. The only noise is the dim batter of the outside rain on windshields and the ventilation.

Now, breathe, smile, make sure to not show too much teeth, and ask in a tone that is liquid sex, "Are you going home, Sakura?"

But Sakura does not hear him. She eyes the _car_, her fingers twitching in excitement as she recalls her driving simulation. No, she really shouldn't; she should go home, and read, and compile her research, and- oh hell, she has done enough for one day. Now, to remove her only obstacle, this prettyboy stalker.

"Edward," she breathes, applying every ounce of femininity she has acquired over her friendship with the estrogen-rich Ino. Which is to say, none, as she bats her eyelashes.

"Yes?" Edward is pleased his plan is working after all.

"I do not want to go home anymore..."

"You... don't?" Edward shies away, surprised his supposed old-lady's charm, as Emmett so courteously dubbed it, is _that _effective after yesterday's utter rejection.

"I do not. But I do have time for quick ride so..." Sakura slides in closer, lowering her eyelids, one hand touching the wheel, the other gripping the shift stick. Hard.

Okay. Plan backfire. He underestimated his own charm, which he did not think was possible seeing as he is conscious of it every day, and this car is not helping. People just have car fetishes these days. Titanic? Jack and Rose were on a motherflipping boat with a thousand or so available luxury bedrooms. And they did it in a car.

"Ah, Sakura, you are a lovely lady..." But we just met, I've got a girlfriend, oh she's in Alaska, really!, I mean, don't you much more prefer my father anyways, listen, I'm actually a vampire out to suck your blood dry– okay, Esme will kill him now and the last one just sounds kinky. "Indeed very wonderful, but-" Edward's stock phrase is interrupted.

"May I please drive?" Sakura asks, forcing a wider smile, desperately trying to turn on the cutesy hearts and rainbows and unicorns. Cuteness is _not_ her thing.

"Drive?" No, no, wrong, he's old-fashioned, woman should not dominate men-

"Yes." She points blankly to the keys in the ignition. "I do not have car."

Eye contact.

Blink.

Silence.

The two straighten, averting their gazes.

Oh God, what was I thinking, Edward holds his breath, running his fingers through his hair, unsure whether he is relieved or frustrated. He blames his no minding-reading handicap.

Oh Kami-sama, I am never pulling that stunt again, Sakura thinks, scratching the back of her neck. Act cute and men will give you want you want, my ass, Ino. Maybe Hinata can pull it off, with her big racks and innocent eyes, but fuck it, Sakura is not as lucky now is she.

"Edward, I apologize-" she tells the window, dropping the sappy-girly voice she should never _ever _use again.

"Yeah whatever, go ahead-" he mumbles to the pouring rain, screwing his archaic, gentlemanly way of speech.

Another silence. Thunder.

"Wait. Did you say yes?"

"Why not," Edward resigns. "You can't walk home in this weather, so if you can drive yourself home, feel free to-" He blinks and finds himself in the passenger seat, Sakura already checking the mirror and shifting the gear to reverse. "-borrow my car."

"Thank you, Edward." Sakura smiles.

"Do drive carefully. This weather is-" He is jerked to the side, as the car spins and zips out of the parking lot at a record that puts Rosalie and her nasty habit of drag street racing to shame. "-difficult to manage."

It is only a minute later, when they are hitting over 120, so fast they are practically skating on a film of water, that Edward finally comes around and says, "Please turn on the windshield wipers, Sakura."

Then he turns on the radio, leans back, and debates the possibility of a fellow vampire in his car.

* * *

Charlie Swan is sitting in his cruiser, staring at a photo of a girl shielding her face from the camera, when there is a zip outside his window.

He sees nothing down the road, not in this downpour, so he goes back to the photo, mulling over a truck he plans to get for his daughter.

Bella will arrive in two months time, and he must prepare.


	7. Challenge 2: The Common Temptress

_Sakura-san,_

_An unfortunate accident arose after Naruto-kun fought against Hokage-sama over the privilege of writing this letter. A further series of obstreperous events caused my foolish little brother and other suitable candidates to decline the honor as well. So pardon the sloppiness of this letter as I summarize the sentiments of everyone on paper: please return soon._

_To put bluntly, your absence is causing mayhem within this village. From what I hear, in two weeks, the lower shopping district has been reduced to a crater, a frog infestation has hit the Hokage tower, and fifteen doctors have suffered from severe epileptic shock via exposure to illegal, intense ocular hallucinations – I apologize; I did not set a proper example and will take responsibility for this one._

_I cannot say I do not miss your company either, but I hope you are sparing time from your mission to enjoy yourself. Your former letter is amusing, and I can imagine the New World is an intriguing place to explore and learn. Seize the opportunities._

_Please work at your own pace, and do not rush. Konohagakure will learn a valuable lesson in patience._

_Sincerely,_

_Uchiha Itachi_

_P.S. You picked a delightful carrier bird, and the name is appropriate. It will be our pleasure to work with Sesu-chan from now on._

Sesu finishes gobbling down the mountain of seeds in the petri dish, then hops onto the disaster of a desk, with open book buried under open book. He cocks his head at the myriad of symbols and illegible scribble.

Then, a gush of wind from outside has pages flipping and notes flying, of which Sesu dives down and catches with his beak. More wind from outside, and the first drops of rain makes contact with the leaves above. With some effort, Sesu pushes down on wooden boards. They seal the window. He does the same for the other window.

Then, in the darkness, he nests himself amidst the disorder of research notes, tucks in his head, and takes a much-deserved nap.

* * *

Curious, Sakura inserts the bud in her ear and presses the wheel several times until there is a deafening boom. She yanks the earbud away and fights the urge to smash the contraption to bits.

A salesman in a blue collared shirt slides over and flashes a bright smile. "You, miss, are looking at the state of the art iPod Mini. Fits right in your palm. Four gigs, eight hours of listening, and look, click wheel! Absolutely revolutionary, the start of a new generation I say."

"If by that, he means Apple will release a new 'generation' every lousy year, sure," mumbles a voice two aisles down.

Sakura nods, not understanding a word out of the salesman's mouth, and slips away when he is not looking. She decides these radio devices are not for her. She treks over to the computer department and glances at the models of monitors. A laptop catches her eye.

Before she could touch a single key, the salesman appears in a poof of genie smoke and flashes his dentally perfect teeth yet again. "Interested in business? Law school? A portable computer may be just for you. Get modem, wireless card, wifi. Forget home computers, laptops are the way to the future. So you interested in this Compaq? Well, you've got the latest operating system, Windows XP _Pro_, Intel Celeron 1.3 GHz, 128 meg memory, a whole whopping 60 gigs of hard drive..." He rambles on, stroking through the keys and opening window after window, the cursor hectic.

"He's trying to sell her _that._ HP crashes a month after the warranty expires, conveniently enough, and that twenty pound _thing _is hardly _portable_," hisses a voice two aisles down.

"Dude, the HP crashed against a _wall_ after Rosalie _threw_ it there. I was there, she was hot, and you might know cars, but you know nothing about computers so stop talking like you do," says a second voice two aisles down.

The salesman continues on about the 17 inch LCD and battery as Sakura backs away. "I will not be here now," she uncomfortably says, skedaddling away.

Approximately two seconds later, she nearly drops the camera in her hands when the same optimistic voice booms, "Excellent choice. 35mm SLR, the Nikon N75 was just released last year and features-"

"Mister." Sakura has enough and decides to put him to good use. "This takes picture?"

"Well, it's a camera!"

"I press button, and it takes picture, correct?" Sakura confirms.

The salesman eagerly takes the camera out of her hands and points. "You get whatever you see in this small window."

"How do I take picture out?"

"This is a film camera. You can get prints at many of the services here. Though you might prefer digital. I'd recommend the Canon PowerShot. Digital shots are about as crisp as film nowadays, maybe even better."

Sakura furrows her eyebrows. Digital? From her practiced simulations, Kakashi and Kurenai never mentioned anything about that. Then again, they never mentioned anything about small musical devices nor laptops either. This world is changing too fast, and it is making her head spin.

"Digital means it will require computer?"

"Yup, upload it, share it with friends, print it out, whatever. Here, let me show you the PowerShot." He snatches a silver box, about a third of the size of the former camera, randomly directs, clicks, and shows Sakura a screen with the interior of the Best Buy, with faint traces of coppery hair and a baseball cap peaking over a counter in the background.

Concealing her amazement, Sakura points to the screen and asks, "No film?"

"Nope. All on the SD card, 16 meg."

"Amazing," Sakura mutters, then swallows at the price tag.

"16 meg? That salesman has some nerve trying to swindle her," grits the boy behind the counter. In response, Emmett throws his head back in surrender, and Sakura decides she is done.

While the salesman is on his verbal rampage, fingers twiddling with every button and and gear on the camera, she slips out of the Best Buy and merges in with the mall crowd. Signs, stands, mannequins. Bells, giant radiant snowflakes, beads of light in large trees.

Edward at school and the hospital is one thing, but Sakura has never imagined that he will follow her all the way to _Seattle_. She regrets letting him coax out her winter plans the week before, because Seattle is where she makes her trips to the library and bookstores, a nice, liberating atmosphere of pure reading... and if he starts tagging her there, they are about to have some _serious_ problems.

"Sakura-chan!"

Months without honorific has thrown her off. Sakura whips around, expecting to see a green flak jacket and headband.

Instead, standing before her is a small girl, with a boney frame, feathers of hair, and clear, laughing eyes. Purposely mismatched stockings, lopsided red hat, multifarious shopping bags strapped up her arms.

"Fancy seeing you here, Sakura-chan," she giggles. "Christmas shopping too?"

Sakura furrows her eyebrows, remembering her face, a girl from school, but... "I am sorry, your name..."

"Oh! Alice," Alice introduces, giving a twirl, then a bounce of a curtsey. The light, fairy grin never once fading from her face. "Sister of Edward."

"Alice, I-"

"Call me Alice-chan," the girl urges.

Strange request, but Sakura complies. "Ah, Alice-chan, yes I wish to buy items. Prices appear more cheap..."

Here, more mirthful giggles. "You are new to this, aren't you, Sakura-chan? Prices are actually up, up, up!" Alice throws her arms in the air, the shopping bags sliding down. "Prices skyrocket, then they slash in the discounts – thirty, fifty, seventy percent! It looks cheaper, but the net price is more expensive!"

"Is that so..." Sakura does not have much reference to support nor dispute Alice's claim. She has never put mind to prices, as there are far too many to memorize, but she has noticed more discount offers, red and green signs plastered all over. Now that school is on break, she assumes the opportune time has come to buy the plethora of things on her wish list.

Alice's voice breaks her out of her thoughts. "Still, if you're _smart_, you can strike a _delicious_ deal," she says, a finger on her lip, eyes winking. "Would you like to Christmas shop together, Sakura-chan? It is lonely by myself, but Jasper _insists_ on surprising me this time, Rosalie is too caught up in the shoes department, and Santa knows what became of my other brothers."

Sakura resists the urge to point to the electronics store, where said brothers are still looking for her, sneaking behind aisles and counters while slapping at each other in a boyish brawl.

Speaking of which, she should get moving lest she wishes to be found again. It would be nice to shop without Edward's commentaries every other second.

"Okay," Sakura says.

So, with much giddy and glee, added with a tint of elfish sadism, Alice grabs Sakura's wrist and ringos her through a hundred different changing rooms. Before Sakura knows it, she is standing before a full body mirror, garnished head to toe in ribbons, lace, and _pink__, _scorching eyeballs off with exuberant amounts of raw, unadulterated femininity.

As Alice leans her head on Sakura's shoulder, a content smile on her face, Sakura stares at herself with a mixed expression of incredulity and morbid fascination, her right eyelid twitching compulsively as she pokes the maxi-padded, push-up bra under her ridiculously frilly blouse.

"Ano, Alice-chan..."

"Yes, Sakura-chan?"

A pause.

"I like this!"

Meanwhile, back outside the Best Buy, Edward and Emmett are still debating the validity of Edward's hypothesis on Sakura's vampirism.

"...besides _driving really _fast, she has done _nothing _to remotely suggest she's a vampire."

"No parents. A home we are unaware of. Students shy around her presence."

"She's a foreign exchange student. No duh, Sherlock."

"About that, do you not find it strange for a girl from Japan to be technology ignorant?"

"Ever watch My Neighbor Totoro? It's called rural areas and rice fields. Y'know, where they make the _rice _they eat."

"Do you not find it strange for a girl with no car to have came to _Seattle _by herself?"

"Public transportation."

"That would take at least three transfers and over _fifteen hours_."

"Hitchhiked. Oh, and she _eats_."

"An act. I will 'eat' as well to avoid suspicion."

"Eyes are green."

"Contacts."

"No one's dying."

"That we know of. Or maybe she's vegetarian."

"Vampire working at a hospital?"

"Carlisle's doing it. And so am I. Now, all of that, coupled with the incident in the woods..."

"Fine, there's a possibility she's a vegetarian, humanitarian vampire who probably knows we're vampires too, but has decided to avoid confrontation and let there be peace."

"Exactly."

A pause. "What's the problem again?"

"She may be a _vampire_."

"WE are vampires!" Emmett pounds on his chest. "Okay, okay. At this rate, this girl can be a ninja-pirate-robot from outer space for all I care. As long as she doesn't bother us, then I'm not bothering her, especially not with more of this stupid surveillance you've talked me into. It's been..." He looks at his naked wrist. "Over a month, and there has been _nothing _threatening about her."

That is when a third voice chirps up. "Sakura-chan is from outer space?"

They turn around see their sister by their side, poking her head into their conversation.

"Alice?" Edward asks. "I thought you were with Jasper."

"Poo, he left me for Switzerland to get my present, which will be a 18K rose gold watch. Please don't tell him I peeked again. I wanna practice my surprise face. Sooo, I went shopping with Sakura-chan instead!" Alice giggles, holding up all the additional shopping bags hanging off her arms.

"What!" Edward and Emmett exclaim.

"Anything suspicious?" Edward demands. "Is she one of us?"

"Or an alien?" Emmett bites sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Their sister blinks. "Well," she drawls. "I've learned Sakura-chan is 1.625 meters, 31-24-33, double A, and yet, amazingly, size 9 for feet. I also understand she really likes books, technology, sweet things, and the color _pink_!"

A silence.

"Okay then!" Emmett says enthusiastically, patting his brother. "You're _definitely_ right, Edward. A _total _vampire. Now when this pink vampire chick begins threatening your life with her books and candies, gimme a call!" At that, he marches away, saluting with a wave of his cap.

Which leaves Edward with his smiling sister.

"So, Alice..."

"Hm?"

"You mind repeating those measurements again...?"

* * *

_Dear Itachi-san,_

_Remind me to ask you for calligraphy lessons on top of genjutsu lessons later._

_The New World is more amazing than I previously thought. Their innovations are advancing exponentially, their forms of networks and telecommunications unfathomable. They are in a frightening era of _nanotechnology _and _digitalization_, and I cannot, absolutely cannot, stop reading of them or dissecting their instruments._

_Of course, medicine comes before all else, and I am progressing well. The New World provides archives of billions of ailments and respective treatments to the point that I am inclined to believe your condition has already been recognized here. If so, that expedites everything significantly, and if a cure has been also established... well, that is my optimism speaking._

_In the letter prior, I have mentioned a celebration of this country named _Thanksgiving_. This time, I would like to introduce _Christmas_. It is a celebration in favor of the birth of their Messiah of the predominate clan. Various smaller clans follow other rituals regarding candle lights or feasting or the like. As there is much disputes from book to book of the exact context of _Christmas_, I will only cite my basic observations:_

_It is of the wintertime._

_It is of a red and green theme._

_It is a time people dress more oddly than usual._

_It is a time of familial reunions and eating._

_It is customary to purchase gifts for family and exchange them._

_Shops increase prices, mainly because of point above._

… _I think._

_Itachi-san, I honestly do not understand how any of this is relevant to the birth of a Messiah, but my lunch break is almost over, and I shall continue this letter – and further any analysis – later._

A bag is placed on the table. "Merry Belated Christmas."

Sakura lowers her pen and greets her co-intern with a smile. "You too."

Edward settles across from her in the hospital cafeteria and slides the bag closer to her. "For you. I would have given it earlier, but I missed you last time." As usual, he begrudgingly thinks. The girl has tricky habit of disappearing.

Sakura furrows her eyebrows at the bag, tilting it a little to see an assortment of red and green wrapping paper.

"I am not family," Sakura says, confused by the gesture.

By all technicalities, an extended family. Extended vegetarian vampire family, Edward thinks.

Or rather, he _wants_ to be believe Sakura is a fellow vampire. To him it is the most logical explanation for the mysteries – the woods, the disappearing, the lack of family. That, and he is having a hard time grasping how a girl is beating him in academia and medical research. Seriously, he went to _Harvard _for Christ's sake, and yet, she is processing everything Carlisle says faster than he can absorb them.

Edward rubs the back of his neck. "No, but we see each other every day and..." He gives a superfluous hand wave and ends with, "It's nothing big."

Much to his discomfort, Sakura continues to eye him suspiciously.

"Edward," Sakura begins. "It has been two months since I have met you, and I understand we have had miscommunication. Just for clarity before I over-analyze, and we reach polar conclusions... are you romantically attracted to me?"

The response suggests a heimlich maneuver is in order, which neither confirms nor denies Sakura's hypothesis.

"Sorry... cold, winter..." Edward fakes a cough, clutching his throat. "Ah no, no, I'm afraid I don't quite see how you have reached such a conclusion."

Well, a constant, conscious presence by her side, and enthusiastic insistence on following her form a good basis. Of the sample population of Forks, behaviors around her have been mostly consistent – nonapproachingly neutral – with exceptions made for three Cullen members, Edward being the most prominent as of yet. However, there exists alternative explanations for Edward's abnormality past teenage romance.

Romance _is _wistful thinking. Likelihood of attraction is correspondent with quantity of attraction, and no one else in Forks has given the remotest sign of attraction. Sakura is not surprised, but that is not to say she is not disappointed. Romance would have explained so much, and now she is back to square one.

"I see," Sakura sighs, which makes Edward wonder why and starts conjuring up theories of _her_ attraction to _him_. "In any case, I have reserved gift for you as well."

Edward's attraction theories spike through the roof when he Sakura pull out of her bag a yellow envelope.

"What is it?"

"You shall see," Sakura says, pulling out a plastic-contained contraption out of all the wrapping paper. "Kodak Disposable Camera," she reads, unable to hide her surprise.

"Alice told me you were looking at cameras," he says, then takes a look at the bundle of papers within his envelope.

His mouth falls ajar. "You're giving me _AIDS_?"

_Click_.

Sakura lowers her camera and reels the film. "Yes," she says. "Your research on malignant neoplasia is too unfocused and completely routeless. You lack breadth to fully understand it, and in depth, the Tsinghua University of China has recently published findings of proteins you are questioning. Ultimately, I am assisting you in finding different mission."

"So you're giving me _AIDS_," Edward repeats.

"It is pandemic, is it not?" Sakura says, furrowing her eyebrows. "Thirty million is significant number, and I am concerned by the lack of missions assigned by your government for this issue. I have not ignored it since my studies in immune-deficiency, so I have outlined a basis for the areas of pursuits within AIDS."

Not to mention the existence of such a disease _seriously_ hinders Sakura's search for partners. She wants to hook up, not die. Also Edward's cancer research is not going anywhere, and she wants him preoccupied with something not relevant to her research.

"Do you not like your present?"

"Ah, no... AIDS... it's just what I wanted for Christmas."

"Oh, one more thing..."

From her bag, she pulls out a package of raw liver she bought from the local market. "You are anemic, I believe. Pale, bad blood flow. Liver helps with problem, better so than blood foods, though I have no say for bizarre American rituals."

She returns his disbelief with a smile. Christmas is a wondrous time to establish peace treaties.

* * *

Sakura looks at the series of photographs in her hands. Of Forks and Seattle, numerable interesting objects, and Edward's face upon seeing her Christmas present. New Years provided beautiful lights and scenery too.

Sesu hops on her shoulder, examining the photos, as Sakura rolls them up along with all her letters.

"_Sesu-chan, it's a bit heavy this time_," she says in her native tongue, inserting the papers into the hollow tube on his back. "_You think you can manage?_"

A full body shake, head to tail, and a flap of wings.

Sakura slides up the windows, the early morning rays hitting her desk and face.

"_If you say so. It'll be less cold over the water, and Konoha will await for you with a feast._"

An eager chirp, hop onto the windowsill, then flight.

"_Bye!_"

Meanwhile, Sakura seasons more of Naruto's ramen powder over her fish and finishes breakfast. Then, after checking her hair is under henge, she sets off for school.

Only to realize she is not the first student to arrive when she spots, or rather, _hears_, something pulling up into the parking lot. There is a giant roar, hack, stutter, as a monstrous, dirty-orange truck rolls in. As silly as it is, Sakura momentarily thinks Naruto may have tumbled in, chased her a thousand miles just to bring her back.

But the driver is not Naruto, only a brunette girl in a grey sweatshirt, her face mostly concealed by hair. Sakura keeps her eye on the truck until the roar exhausts with a wheeze and the brunette steps out. But by then, Sakura has already entered the building, the door shut behind her.

Ten minutes into Calculus, Sakura has the pleasure of learning the girl's name – Isabella Swan – in between pages of her book, since the entire class does not have any other topic to discuss on the sidelines. The rest of her schedule proceeds as usual, exchanging her daily greeting with her deskmate, reading their respective books – Edward is now on his nth rereading of the Dummies, and walking together to Government and English.

In Spanish, the new transfer girl from Arizona named Isabella (Bella) Swan, who is the lone daughter of policeman Charlie Swan, and highly popular due to a combination of good looks and airs of the novel, as Sakura learns from unintentional eavesdrop, settles in a seat at the back of class. Sakura remains engaged in her book, repeating "Hace frío," or "Está llivioso," or "Hace viento," along with everyone else.

Lunch, no change. Excellent time to toss out a salad of mental vomit and wild guesses before she forgets them.

Biology II is when things change, and tumble into catastrophic levels.

It happens from a series of angles, but the initial trigger begins with a chair.

Or lack of.

Biology II is a laboratory classroom, with one lab table each consisting of two seats. It just so happens Sakura claimed the last one beside Edward, leaving Isabella (Bella) Swan lacking a seat, something the people in charge of scheduling has overlooked, never expecting two transfer students within a year. Therefore, Mr. Banner comes up with the ingenious idea of giving Isabella (Bella) Swan a _temporary _seating until she can be switched out of the class and have her schedule reworked.

A temporary seat is, very simply, a fold-up chair stored in the closet at the very back of the classroom, which happens to be behind the seat of Sakura.

Isabella (Bella) Swan, as Sakura learns within a decisecond of the struggling noise, is not capable of extracting this chair out by herself without dealing bodily harm to herself and everyone around her. Thus, Sakura settles down her book in favor of assisting Isabella (Bella) Swan, and it is only when she has unfolded the chair and presented it to her that Sakura has her first _real _look at the girl.

And in her absolute shock, Sakura feels her hormone levels spike up the roof, because she has never in her life seen anyone with such a face of pure _averageness._

For those unaware of attraction theories, human beings are, by nature, attracted to mates with a predominance of average features, which are advantageous in survival and reproduction, as opposed to unusual or unique features, which are often considered disadvantageous mutants in terms of natural selection. Therefore, no one wants, say, a girl with a giant forehead, tanned skin, red hair, and other unusual foreign traits not commonly found within the culture. But _everybody _in Forks will be interested in the iconic representation of the average Forks girl – delicate, translucent skin, doe eyes, soft brown hair.

And Isabella (Bella) Swan _is_ the epitome of a Forks girl, from the unexposed and vulnerable structure to the clumsy, endearing behavior to the grey sweatshirt that blends perfectly with the solemn weather. And _man_, Sakura cannot look away from that blessed facial symmetry, not a blemish in place.

In short, Isabella (Bella) Swan is pretty. Pretty enough for Sakura to push away all her books and research notes to Edward's side of the table, and slide the chair next to her own seat, beckoning the girl to her throne in a warm gesture.

Because Sakura is _interested_, having found herself a very beautiful, non-threatening person with whom she can build a very _normal_ relationship, maybe gaining a shot at the _normal_ teenage romance she has wanted since forever. And the fact that this girl is new, and that Sakura has the chance for a good first impression, make everything all the more excellent.

"Hello, my name is Sakura. You must be Bella," she introduces. "Would you like to seat with me?"

Bella is taken aback and barely manages to force a single word out – "Um..." – when she subconsciously shuffles her hair. There is a breeze from the closing of a Biology textbook, and Sakura's eyes widen, startled by sudden spike in murderous intent radiating next to her.

And there is action.

And there is counteraction.

And it all ends with Sakura slamming Edward into the classroom floor, _hard, _holding him in a single-handed choke hold, her kunoichi instincts on high alert, and Edward... Edward, having the remaining air knocked out of him, cannot take Bella's scent perforating anymore, reaches up, and decides to inhale a deep breath...

… from Sakura's mouth.

All before an audience of nineteen students plus one teacher.


	8. Supernatural Allies and AIDS

Bella, in some sort of misguided attempt at a heroic sacrifice on her mother's behalf, finds herself a first hand witness of a deep make out scene on the floor of her Biology II classroom. Last time she checked, this kind of stuff does not happen in Phoenix, Arizona, and usually does not occur... well, anywhere else outside of dramas or horribly written romance novels.

Said make out session lasts approximately 2.5 seconds before there is a violent thud – wait, did she just punch him? – and both parties scramble up.

"Um... I'm anemic! See, I fainted-"

"Cardiopulmonary resuscitation... he is ill-"

The two exchange a look, then shout, "Bathroom!" dashing out of the class at non-human speeds, leaving one Bella Swan undergoing shell shock.

Rewind.

Bella, seventeen, recently arrived in Forks, Washington to live with Charlie. She has had the pleasure of the following routine:

"You're Isabella, right?" they would ask.

"Bella," she would correct.

"From Arizona? What's that like?" they would ask.

"Not wet," she would answer, often with exasperation and a futile attempt at sarcasm no one gets.

"Cool."

And so on. In the same day, she has realized she is receiving an unusual amount of attention, especially from the population containing Y-chromosomes, as well as giving an unusual amount of attention to certain people, the other "new" students for Forks.

This consists of the Cullen's family, all with traditional names, odd behaviors, and incredibly gorgeous looks. The story around them revolves around sex scandals, their wealth, and Edward, the youngest, cutest, and "kinda-untaken" boy of the family.

"Kinda-untaken" brings the lunch conversation to the girl on the other corner of the building, a redhead munching down on an apple. The story around her is that she is an illegitimate child from Japan who is sent here to be ultimately adopted by Mr. Carlisle Cullen and become fiancee to Edward.

Which arises the question, "If that is true, why is she not sitting with the rest of them?"

Of which Jessica, her conversational partner, denounces with, "The Cullens and Hales believe she's too ugly to be associated with. I feel bad for Edward though. He's trying to be nice but is obviously not interested. She's the nasty and arrogant type." And possibly an alien, according to the input of a chick named Lauren.

And Bella gives a hesitant nod, before lunch break is up, and she trudges down to Biology, landing her in the situation now, recovering from the whiplash of watching the recently engaged, interterrestrial couple kiss.

Someone else recovers a second later, as Mike Newton shoots his hand up in the air. "Mr. Banner, I'll work with Bella!"

* * *

The janitors will be going into overtime mopping up guts tonight, as Sakura drags Edward across an entire hall, before slamming him head on into the lockers. All while screaming in a rough, distorted Japanese, the killer intent flashing through her eyes far greater than his meek, pussy one back in the classroom.

"_Unbelievable! What kind of a joke culture is this, where you kiss before engaging in any form of courtship, and right after you specifically deny romantic attraction. My damn flowers. The anko dumplings. Some confession, or music, or ramen treat. A DATE at least. Are all males here this classless and crude? Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID-_!"

"Hey... baka... I understand that word," Edward chuckles weakly, before sliding down to the floor in a pool of pain, pain, ow, _OW_. Not many things bruise vampire skin. But this girl's fist can, as there is another wince-worthy thud.

Sakura's inner self is not pleased, and she makes it known. In her homeland, there exists specific step-by-step guidelines on dating and courtship, and you have better gone through repeated encounters, dates, treats and presents before you can even _think_ about something like a kiss. And through all her dating experiences, she has never gotten that far.

With Naruto, ramen got in the way.

With Sasuke, Naruto got in the way.

With Ino, five bottles of regurgitated sake got in the way.

You see a theme going on here, and after the patrol squads formed, oh no, forget it. The suitors are not surviving past the first date. Which ultimately makes this Sakura's first kiss.

Thinking about that sets her off on another level.

"BAKA!"

There is now a crater in four respective metal lockers.

Sakura _will_ get compensation for this, the first and foremost a relinquishment of her rage via violence, and the second being an explanation.

After inner Sakura is done dealing much body collateral, regular Sakura blinks and lowers her fist. She flashes a smile and extends a hand towards the befallen boy. "I apologize. I overly react."

Well, turns out the beating is a delightful way of snapping Edward out of his homicidal thoughts earlier... as well as any delusions that this redhead is weak, helpless, and cute, because the welts now forming on his pretty face is a good indication that...

"So you're one of us, after all," Edward says, rubbing his jaw.

Sakura examines him, then places a hand on her hips. Guess there is little point to this charade now. "Yes, I am. Now, what were you thinking back there."

"I... needed air." And he assumed it will just be like those underwater kissing scenes, or something of that sort. In a sense, it _worked_, as the taste and smell of apples and Asian cup noodles? allowed him to regain some of his common sense. Said common sense now tells him that he maybe did not chose the _best_ path back in that classroom, and this girl is justifiably angry... should he be a regular boy.

But he is not.

He is a super sexy vampire that everyone and their mothers dream of raping so why the hell is she punching him again?

There is a huge vein bulging from Sakura's forehead at the idiocy of Edward's lie, because what kind of excuse is _I needed air_? And little does Edward know how lucky he is to be super sexy, because had he been some sub-attractive boy, he would be floating in outer space about now.

"Not that. Why were you attacking Isabella?" Sakura asks, knitting together her eyebrows. "You intend to kill her."

"I don't target people," Edward earnestly answers. "But she... her scent..."

"Body odor is legitimate excuse for murder?"

It feels like a slap across Edward's face, a giant blow to his ego, because here he is, before a fellow vegetarian vampire, and he has demonstrated a shameful lack of self control.

Meanwhile, heads begin to peak over classroom door windows, though the students and teachers are too scared to come out. So, Edward and Sakura exit the hallway and continue their discussion in the outside parking lot.

Edward is slightly concerned how this is playing out like a murder scene, in which the victim is dumped inside the trunk of his own car. But come on, his life has been playing like a badly produced, directed, _and_ casted romance movie, not a horror film (but the decree of horribleness of the romance can be categorized as horror), so there is no reason to suspect his life of average love affairs and teenage wangst will now involve extractions of any internal bodily organs...

"Edward, do you remember when I gave you liver?" Sakura begins, leaning against the hood of his Volvo.

Or is there.

"Yes, I do."

"I am not sure if you are aware, but it is truce symbol for when we first met. I wish to help you and be ally, not fight you and be enemy. Very simply, cooperation over conflict. But I will state clearly: if you kill Isabella, regardless of justification, you will end on negative note with me."

"It's not like I want to kill her either," Edward growls.

Sakura raises an eyebrow. "You do not?"

"No."

"Not your mission?"

"No."

With this additional piece of information, all of Sakura's previous theories went out the window, and she is left puzzled, unable to conjure up a reasonable explanation.

Meanwhile, Edward is equally befuddled by Sakura's confusion. "Hold on, this doesn't sound right..."

"You cannot possibly be..."

"Don't tell me you are actually..."

They both snap their fingers towards the other.

"-reanimated corpse!"

"-an alien!"

* * *

"Not dead?"

"Not _zombie_-dead!"

* * *

A hanging question mark. "No UFO?" he asks, pointing upwards.

Sakura blinks, then corrects him by pointing west. "I travel by boat."

* * *

"I apologize, I am not acquainted with term _vampire_ either."

"What in blaze's name is _shinobi_?"

* * *

"So you are alternative, advanced, humanoid species whose entire DNA structure is different, granting you immunity to most death and disease, with only downfall being dependence on human blood as crop food for survival, but the Cullen clan has adopted philosophy of vegetarianism in which you prey on animal blood. But at times you cannot control primitive instincts, and if thirst for too long, attack humans, hence situation with Isabella."

"Correct."

"And you research cancer."

"What?"

"You are human hazard with unmapped genome and internal mechanism of which you do not fully comprehend, lest alone the rest of the planet. And given a thriving scientific environment, you research _cancer_."

"Ah..."

"Have you at all given consideration to giving self more useful objective? Perhaps way to deactivate this sense of 'smell.' Or synthetic blood to seize thirst? Or yet, understand what grants you this immunity to death and disease, because who cares for one or two casualties when you hold key to saving _billions_ of-"

Sakura is hit with a slap of cold realization.

"Edward?" she begins, her entire body shaking.

Edward is getting uncomfortable, especially with that a sharp glint in her eyes. "Yes?"

"You have unnatural thirst for Isabella. This is current dilemma, correct?"

"Yes?"

A smirk. "Then I shall assist you. I find you solution so you will not worry of Isabella, or presence of human blood, ever again. In exchange, you assist me."

"With...?"

"Science," Sakura affirms. "I need your body."

* * *

"So basically, you told her about us," Rosalie spits out from the back seat. She folds her arms in discontent, her eyes narrowed at the rear-view mirror.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Emmett chuckles from shotgun. "_Ninjas_, apparently, are very good at keeping secrets. Ain't that right, Ed?"

"Or so she says," Jasper says, his lips pulled into a thin line. "How be it you've divulged so much of us, yet acquired no information of her?" The experienced militian is not pleased by the strategical disadvantage.

A pair of tiny hands land on his shoulder as Alice leans against Jasper and sighs, "Oh honey, Edward tried. We may not know much, but we sure do know she's on our side, and she used her Japanese ninja skills to save that new girl."

"Speaking of new girl." Emmett turns to Edward, who is still banging his head against the steering wheel. "Any luck on the mind reading?"

"It. Is. Blank," Edward says with each concussion-inducing bang, failing to access Bella's thoughts.

From the parking lot, the Cullen siblings have an excellent view of the new, new girl through the windows. Without a gym uniform, Bella hunches at the bleachers besides Sakura, who has decided to exploit the opportunity with much conversations and giggles, all while not-so-subtly inserting, "I am single, by the way," and "Edward? Oh no, no, no, we are not romantically involved in any way, shape, or form. He is merely diseased and mentally ill... forgets to breathe often, silly boy. I help him, yes?"

Edward may not have access to Bella's thoughts, but he can hear their conversation in the minds of everyone around her. And though Sakura's mental Japanese remains untranslatable, her verbal English is doing a fantastical job tearing his reputation to shreds.

"Holy crow, he's got leukemia _and_ AIDS?"

"By crows of holiness, I forget to mention – he also has prostate cancer."

"Edward Cullen has leukemia, AIDS, _and_ prostate cancer?" Bella fails to control the volume of her voice.

People stare.

The ball drops.

Even the coach freezes with the whistle in his mouth.

A smile. "He is older than you think."

Meanwhile, Edward believes now is an excellent time to disassemble himself. Just chop off his head, chuck it in the fridge, and come back a century or so later when every witness here is dead... granted Sakura does not get far enough in her research to produce a panacea that extends the average lifespan to a millennium or so.

And just to make life sweeter, Rosalie, just then and there, treats him to a rare dosage of her eternal love and compassion.

"Edward," she deadpans, "you're, quite literally, a bloody mess. You attack in public, get beaten by a girl, reveal our secret, and now screwed up your powers. Get yourself together, and take a sick leave before you blab to the whole world about us."

"I am not sick!" Edward feels the need to clarify with the abrupt declaration.

"Edward, I reckon she's right," Jasper says, a hint of schadenfreude in his tone. Rosalie is blunt. If there is a problem with somebody in the family, she does not sugarcoat, and Jasper has been the target of her criticisms for years. It is nice to see her point her gun at someone else and give Edward the boot instead.

"It's obvious I ain't the only one not in control today. Shall we go over at Alaska? It'll be fair off there."

Jasper, though usually a man of little words, is surprisingly willing to express his thoughts today. And out loud. And, for once, _not_ sound like he is in pain. It is only another indicator that yes, the world is coming to an end.

"We are not leaving!" Edward yells, accidentally slamming his forehead on the car horn and effectively garnering the attention of everybody in Gym.

"Why's he outside? Shouldn't he be in class?"

"Oh, he drive home after Biology. Forget inhaler often. Why he, ah, asked for my breath earlier, and I hit air into his lungs. See, no romance."

"He has _asthma_ too?"

"No, that be silly. He has _emphysema_. Reason he speaks little and breathes loudly."

"Wow, and I thought he was going to punch me or something with that angry face he made at me in Bio."

"Angry face just him needing oxygen. It is my fault he fainted, because I did not notice him when I assisted you with chair."

"Poor guy. You always help him?"

"No, no, I am new too. See, I am medical student from Japan. Doctor Carlisle, his father, hire me to help him as nurse. But he is embarrassed, so we pretend we do not know each other in school. I remain close in case though, and help him with rehabilitation at hospital. You will find me there often, trying to solve his problems."

"I just can't believe he's got that many. I mean... he _looks_ okay."

"Notice pale skin and eye shadows. Nasty rash under shirt too. Nah-uh, very ill. Pretty girl like you should stay far away unless you want phlegm. He strains to talk and needs space for oxygen. Notice how people do not converse with him and respect his space."

"Wait, is his family..."

"Oh, all are sick with different diseases. All pale. Doctor Carlisle is good man who adopts incurable sick children."

Back at the car...

"Well?"

"Well, thanks to Sakura, Bella now thinks I have leukemia, AIDS, prostate cancer, and emphysema, with a side of ADHD and erotomania."

There is a restrained snort, but before Emmett can break out into raucous laughter, Edward adds, "And you have lupus."

"What!"

Then, he turns to the remaining members of the family and calmly states to Rosalie, "You are a diabetic with a narcissistic personality disorder," much to her outrage, to Jasper, "You have sickle cell anemia with arthritis and depression," much to his amusement, and to Alice, "And you're just a schizophrenic albino," much to her glee.

"She's making this all up as she goes along, ain't she?" Jasper says, the corner of his lips twitching.

"And that new new girl is gullible enough to _believe_ this bullcrap?" Emmett asks.

"I can't read her mind, but I do know half the people in Gym believe her." Edward grimaces, as he hears thoughts of, 'so that's why they're so pale,' 'no wonder you never see them in sunlight,' 'that explains the lack of appetite,' 'I thought she was crazy,' 'so a disease is maintaining her figure?' 'oh, so he _is_ in pain,' and 'aha! I thought so!' The last of which is most concurrent, even though they have not the slightest clue of the science Sakura is explaining.

At this rate, she can say hepatitis induces canine growth and a hunger for human blood, and they will still believe her.

"Now, remember," Sakura tells the entire class plus one coach (who is now feeling very guilty for all his slaps at Emmett during playoffs last season), "be very careful not to get paper cuts or open wound. AIDS transmit through blood."

Bella cringes.

Sakura smiles. "I carry license and medical kit, Bella. If you are prone to injury, be near me, and I will protect you."

Bella glances around and shrinks at all the jealous glares. In a school infested with five diseased freaks, the students feel much more secure having a personal medic by their side. However, they do not quite understand how most are_not _contagious, nor do they realize they have never been close enough to the Cullens _to begin with._

"Ah... err... okay."

And with that, the bell rings, and Sakura packs her bag, setting out to meet one incensed Edward Cullen.

* * *

"I do not understand your anger," Sakura says, as they pace together towards the receptionist's office. "I found simple solution to your problem. Now no one will approach your family with temptation of blood."

"When you told me you are going to find a solution, I didn't think you meant _this_," Edward says, yanking at his hair.

"Careful, leukemia causes baldness," Sakura says, head high, eyes haughtily closed. Then, she peeks open an eye and adds, "Relax. This is temporary solution until I find permanent cure I promise you."

"Have you at all thought that this stunt you pulled could get my siblings and I expelled? The staff and faculty here isn't going to be exactly welcoming to five diseased students. As if we didn't have enough bad rumors about us already!"

"Bad? How is your family as sick bad?" Sakura asks. "Most I cause is pity."

"And fear, and discomfort, and disgust!"

Sakura stops and stares at Edward with scrutinizing eyes. "Edward, you tell me sick people _disgust_ you?"

"No! No," he says, shaking his hands. "That's not what I meant. Look, take AIDS for example. When you say that, people think of two types of people: blacks and homosexuals. And I am obviously not in one of these two groups."

Sakura blinks. "This is faulty assumption. AIDS affects all people."

"Yes, but that's not what people _think_. And I really don't appreciate people thinking I'm gay."

Sakura blinks again. "Edward, one of my friends has been telling girls for years he is homosexual, and it discourages not one percentage of them. So if it is concerning female attention, you might wish to skew attention more towards 'deadly virus,' and less towards 'possibility of homosexuality.'"

"That's not- it's not..." He stops himself and sighs. "Forget it."

After some hesitation, Sakura resumes her walk. "You are strange. You do not socialize with these people, yet care of what they think. I thought you want more distance and less contact."

He does. But when he reads minds, he prefers to be thought of as a mysterious, talented, and sensual Greek god. But the image of a sexual deviant now undergoing miserable rehab?

"Just tell me next time you do something like this? I do not want my family cast in a negative light."

A pause, as her hand touches the door handle.

"Okay, I shall obtain your consent next time," Sakura says. But before he can reply, she adds, "But understand. I work under assumption life of innocents is more important to you than reputation."

She pushes the door open and is surprised to find Bella by the receptionist's desk, papers in hand.

The office air enters the hallway.

Instantly, Sakura seizes Edward by the wrist and flickers both of them outside, where he takes deep breathes. There is a ring of red in his pupils, a tension in his jaw, and Sakura can tell he is suppressing the instinct to chase Bella, which he will indubitably do had she not teleported. In fact, for the first time, Sakura is feeling adrenaline course run through her veins, her palm numb from trying to restrain him.

Edward is strong and fast; she cannot deny that. Probably on par with a freshly vested chuunin, which is not much to worry for someone of her caliber. But she worries nonetheless as she finds herself breaking down and trying to catch her breath alongside Edward.

She clutches her head, feeling the da-thump, da-thump of her heartbeat. This is not right. Chakra depletion may be ten times its normal rate, but it has been a while since she used any jutsu. A body flicker is also low rank.

And that is when she realizes with mortification that it has nothing to do with her chakra _depletion_ rate. It has to do with her chakra _replenishment_ rate, and her chakra has not replenished at all during these past two months. All the small supplemental jutsus she has been using here and there drain too little for her to notice, but when added all up...

"Sakura," Edward's coarse voice brings her attention back to him.

"Yes?"

"I don't know why I haven't realized this before," he gasps out, "but your blood has never been particularly alluring."

She tries to steady her own breathing and slaps on a sarcastic, "Why thank you, Edward."

"Say, if Bella is nectar, you are rice. I can smelled you, but you have never been enticing. It's strange now that I think about it. How close we have been at times, but I have never been hit any _urge_ for you... only felt like something is wrong or off, but not necessarily in a bad way."

"_Thank you_, Edward. I am glad you do not wish to eat me."

"You're no longer rice."

"What?"

"You're no longer rice," he repeats, serious. "Or if you are, you are rice that is beginning to smell very good. Good enough for me to consciously note your scent."

That cannot bode well.

"Edward, when did you last drink?"

He catches his final breath and tilts his head up to look at the rolling clouds. "If Jasper is having trouble... must have been a while. Our family did plan to hunt this weekend."

"I suggest you do not take risk and sedate thirst now," Sakura tells him sharply.

"And you?"

"I shall ask Ms. Cope about Isabella. See when she transfers out of Biology. Perhaps obtain copy of her schedule so you will know when and where to avoid her."

They exchange a nod of agreement and depart their separate ways.

With a swing of the doors, Sakura reenters the school, hair fluttering and eyes sharp.

Edward's body is not the only thing that needs to undergo investigation. From now on, she will keep meticulous track of her chakra reserves. Because if her mind is jumping from hypothesis to hypothesis, and if any of them are close to right, then she has a bigger problem than some pretty girl or uncontrolled vampire.

Or even Itachi's disease.


	9. Challenge 3: Edge of Limitations

Ever since the arrival of Bella, things have progressed on rockier terrain.

For one, every science class is full. Thus, Bella is permanently stuck in last row, middle column, third seat of the Edward-Sakura-Bella squad. Which causes the inhabitants of seats one and two to facepalm in horror, and of seats two and three to cheer in happiness.

But no problem, as Sakura finds yet another temporary solution – salt. Or rather, an incensed salt combined with Naruto's ramen powder that overwhelms all smells for approximately an hour. She makes sure to cram as much up Edward's nostrils before Biology II.

So it works out, with an easy, "Prophase," from Edward as he disregards the microscope and slides it to Sakura, who nonchalantly states, "Anaphase," before passing it to Bella, who takes a fleeting glance before, "Interphase." But Bella's joy is diminished when she notices her deskmates are thoroughly engaged in medical journals, the worksheets completed.

Research is also rewired. The secret is spilled to Carlisle, who _wants_ to trust Sakura, but cannot after her refusal to impart any information regarding herself. "It is forbidden of me," she painfully says, followed by a deep bow, and he is forced to resign with a reluctant nod. One-sided trust is difficult to keep. It is only through Carlisle's understanding that lab hours remain the same, even extended on multiple occasions.

Like now, six in the morning, with one of the two teens severely sleep deprived, functioning on ten cups of caffeine. Luckily, Edward does not need to sleep. His bonuses just do not stop.

"A or B."

"B."

Sakura scribbles something down, then presents two more vials.

"B."

"And this?"

"Nothing. Now you mind telling me your theory?"

Sakura bangs her head on the desk and moans, "Not yet, or else I risk of contaminating data with bias."

Bias is enough for Edward to give up on Dummies, but the lack of mind reading handicap is irritating. He has gotten so reliant on mind reading, he forgets to verbally question. "Then can you tell me what you've learned?"

"This all inconclusive, but there is pattern," Sakura sighs, shuffling through her papers. "Understand for every theory, one must test equally-weighty theories to prevent confirmation bias. I cannot afford to steer wrong because of what I think."

"Then what does the data tell you?" he asks, unwrapping the sensor around his arm.

"So far, there is negative correlation between time and attraction of blood. Almost exponentially. Fresh wounds evoke higher desire than blood exposed for seconds. After one minute, attraction weakens more. After two hours, there is no appeal."

"We already know that."

An irritated pout. "It can explain why more vampires are attracted to females – menstruation – but doesn't kill them on sight." Sakura ignores Edward's grimace and continues tiredly, "Anyway, amount of blood is also irrelevant to intensity of attraction. It only affects the distance from which you will be drawn, which we have concluded is negatively correlated with attraction."

"Once again, information we already know."

"You do not _know._" Sakura slams down her notes and sends a frightening look. "You _assume_. These are basics you should have long tested. Gave me numbers to work with. But no, we had to start from scratch."

At least Carlisle has enough sense to experiment on himself, but his failures are forgivable, since technology was cavemen-level at the time of his work. And he has been busy helping injured humans and protecting his family from then on.

But Edward, what has he been doing? He is smart, brilliant even, but he only attends high school mindlessly, not doing anything _productive_.

The thought exasperates Sakura to no end. She unbuttons her lab coat and hangs it on the hooks, then reaches for her backpack.

"We are also working with very limited sample population. Still..."

"Still what?" Edward follows her out the hospital. There is no car; the school is a short walk away, and Emmett drives the family from their residence.

"Still, I cannot help but wonder..." Sakura mutters, wrapping her jacket tighter, staring off into the wintery distance of snow piles and ice. Her voice trails off.

After a silence, out of the blue, she asks, "Are you attracted to Isabella?"

Which throws Edward off. "Why are we bothering with this if I'm not?"

"I am not speaking of blood attraction. I speak of romantic attraction."

"What the- how can I be when I haven't even talked to her? I can't thanks to my, ahem, lung problems." He cannot read Bella's mind either, but he keeps that quiet. His family's powers are of the subjects not disclosed to Sakura. Jasper and Rosalie have been strict on keeping it that way, to maintain an edge against Sakura should she threaten their safety.

"Physical attraction requires only eyes," Sakura says. "Isabella is beautiful. Many people in school like her."

That, Edward cannot deny, having to deal with listening to Mike's and Eric's constant obsession.

"Yes, that may be true," he says.

"Bella is attracted to you."

And that throws him off a cliff and into the ocean.

"What makes you believe that?" He knows the girls in school have everything from small crushes to outright fantasies about him, but he is not _that _oblivious without mind reading, is he?

To Sakura, he is, and hopelessly so. Maybe even hitting Naruto's level on the obliviousness scale.

"How can you _not_ know?"

Bella, as far as Sakura can tell, is an open book, an honest girl with emotions all over her face. Sakura is smart enough to know all those furtive glances in Biology are not directed at her. Not to mention Bella's obvious attempts to not stare at Edward during lunch, almost to the point of painful avoidance. Every conversation is also most likely to be prolonged, and with enthusiasm, whenever one Edward Cullen is chugged into the topic blender.

So when Edward states, "Because she is incredibly difficult to read," it has Sakura facepalming. Forget Naruto, he is worse than Sai.

In any case, the fact that Bella likes Edward only bothers Sakura in regards of her own affections, not in terms of research. Many girls like Edward; Sakura understands she herself is not immune to his good looks. The real question is how much _Edward _likes _Bella_. That single question has been nagging at Sakura since she heard the full stories behind Edward's family, and she is seeing many dots she wants connected.

"So Edward, are you?" she persists.

"I don't know," he mumbles. He finds her face _interesting_ to look at. And maybe, he is curious at times. But he has been too busy reading to think of Bella as anything other than an abnormality to his powers.

"Tell me when you know."

They cross the road, the school parking lot in view. Edward is her best source. But she will have to do with second-hand observation if he is as lacking in self-awareness as Bella is, who has not even realized her own crush on Edward yet. Sakura is strongly inclined to think the answer to this question is key to the mystery of blood attraction.

Meanwhile, Edward has a few questions of his own, the most prominent being, does _Sakura_ like _him_. Nothing to do with research this time. However, unlike Sakura, he cannot bring himself to ask her. Asking seems wrong, like there exists such things like love _confessions_ for a reason. It is not something you can fill in the blank or scantron bubble.

When they enter the parking lot, Edward is relieved to find his car not torn to shreds. While Emmett is no Rosalie, he still manhandles, and Edward does have sentimental attachments to his Volvo. He is about to go over to greet his family (and do a closer scrutiny of his car) when the swerve of a van blocks them from view.

Sakura is desperately trying to reach said van's destination – Bella – before the van does.

* * *

Bella barely avoids slipping on the ice as she makes her descent out of her truck. Three cars away, she spots the Cullen siblings exiting theirs. Sans one Edward, much to her disappointment.

Inwardly groaning at catching herself thinking about him again, she forces her attention back to her initial objective – the tires of her truck.

She does not know what to make with the ice braces, whether to be thankful, shocked, relieved or nervous; she guesses a combination of them all. Charlie is a good man, doing a lot for her that she knows will be hard to repay. Maybe she can express her gratitude back in the form of a dinner. Something he does not usually get to eat.

But before she can confirm this decision, she hears a sharp, scratching screech accelerating in her direction, followed by the sudden lift of gravity.

Then comes the grating swerve, followed by a deafening crash and screaming, but not before is a moment of no noise, just a blank in her mind as a pair of green eyes stare at her and strands of pink hair.

"OH MY GOD!"

"Someone call 911!

"Get Tyler out of the van!"

"MY CAR!"

From her seat on top of a neighbor tan car, Bella gawks at the damage of a crushed van against Mike's equally destroyed Suburban, with one Sakura hurriedly assisting the van's driver, Tyler Crowley.

* * *

"Okay, I don't care what kind Japanese ninja school you went to, or what kind of magical karate they've taught you, but humans can't move THAT fast."

Sakura says nothing, only stomps down the halls of the hospital.

"And your hands. It was glowing!"

Ignore, ignore, ignore.

Edward seizes her by the shoulder. "And... and... your hair! It's pink!" he fight back his hysterics, seizing strands of Sakura's hair. "It is naturally _pink_!"

"Yes, Edward, it is pink!" Sakura shouts, crushing his hand and shoving it away with devastating force. "If you do not accept explanation of genetics, will you accept story of how I pulled hair dyed from atmosphere?"

"Sakura!" Edward's voice equally rises. "I have told you nearly _everything_ about me, but you keep telling me _nothing_!"

"It is forbidden of me!"

"There's some forbidden code about vampires telling humans too, but I trusted you. And I thought you trusted me too."

Sakura inhales, her chest rising, before she exhales and marches past him.

Edward follows. "You can't avoid me forever! I'll follow you everywhere until you talk-"

The door to the girl's bathroom slams shut in his face, which causes Edward to stop in his tracks and wince. Okay. So maybe not _everywhere_.

"Sakura," he tries again, knocking. There is no response, but he can hear her mind, loud, booming, a hurricane of chaotic thoughts. "Sakura, I... you, you know, I can _help_. If you didn't want exposure, you could have just let me handle that incident back there..."

He is surprised to hear a snort from behind the door. "What can _you_ do? You are not faster than me."

And now, he is slightly offended. "Well, I may not be able to pull Bella away fast enough, but I could have stopped the van."

"How?"

"I have supervampire strength, remember?" he attempts at a joke.

A pause.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Do you study physics?"

"I told you. I went to-"

"The highest educational standard of this world. Yes. Then you know of momentum?"

"Why are you asking me of high school lessons-" He stops himself. "Oh."

"Yes, oh. You are on near _frictionless_ surface, Edward. Unless you weigh one ton, strength is useless. I suggest you restudy basic laws of physics lest you wish for Isabella to be... what is term... ah, roadkill."

A wince. "Okay, okay, you're right. I couldn't have done anything about the van. Is there anything I can do now?"

Another pause, then a sigh. Sakura calms the tumult in mind and sorts through her priorities. "May you please find me hair dye of my former color? I will pay for purchase."

Edward, at this point, is racked with questions, but he swallows them down. "Sure, Sakura," he complies, and leaves for the lobby/waiting room/receptionist/whatever-Carlisle-calls-it area.

Only to be greeted with a scent he would rather avoid.

He makes a beeline down the other direction. And of course, out of the entire student population crammed in the hospital, Bella is the one to spot him, pushing through the crowd.

"Edward, wait!"

Damn. He inhales a deep breath and turns around.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" Bella asks.

Edward opens his mouth, then decides, for once, he is going to use Sakura's list of diseases to his advantage. He fans himself, mouthing random words before giving her a sympathetic smile and whipping around.

"Wait!"

Oh come on, respect a dying patient and his oxygen bubble, will you?

"Tyler is fine," Edward forces his breath. "Please wait in the lobby with everyone else."

"This isn't about Tyler," Bella presses. "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with you. Alone." She tags on the last word after a quick glance back. Thankfully, the nurses are making announcements. No one has spotted them yet.

Wonderful. Edward wishes nothing more than to eat this girl, and she has responded with an open invitation, as well as slapped on an offer to remove all nearby witnesses. Well, shall they giddy up over to the woods right now and get it over with?

"I should go."

Bella remains adamant. "Just a moment?"

The nice guy act is not working, so Edward tries a different approach: a glare. He turns his back, strides down the hallway at a speed Bella is jogging to keep up. For a sick guy, he moves quickly.

When they swing around a corner, out of view of everyone, Edward asks, "What do you want?" His tone is annoyed, just how he needs it to be to shake her off his tail.

She flinches but refuses to be shaken off. "Sakura is your nurse, right?"

Edward feigns shock, then nods. "Yes, please do not tell any more people."

"And you're her closest friend?"

Real surprise, but it is restrained. "I suppose." They are not exactly BFFs, but it is not like he has much competition.

"Then, I want to ask you, have you noticed anything _strange_ about her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like something..." Bella holds her breath. "Supernatural?"

Oh crappers.

Edward rearranges his face, lowers his eyelids and sends a patronizing grin. "Have you been listening to those alien rumors?"

"No! That's not it. It's just, during the accident, I swear Sakura pulled me out of the way of the van. I don't know how, but I was by my truck one second and on top of someone else's car the next! And then, she's the first one by Tyler, even though she was with me, and then she entirely disappeared and... and... her hair. I swear it was _pink_!"

Double crappers, triple crappers, crappers to the infinitive degree.

"Bella," Edward begins, morphing his expressions into a cocktail of entertained and confused, "are you instigating Sakura _teleported _you somehow? She is a good nurse, but that is all in terms of superpowers..."

And suddenly, there is an immense flush across Bella's face.

"... and I have been with Sakura for a while. Her hair is red. So unless it is the light, I hope you are not suffering from trauma." He leans forward, as if to examine her head.

"I'm fine," she squeaks.

He closes in, too close, the first drips of venom flooding his mouth. "Hm, are you positive?"

"Yes!" And there is a shove.

And Edward does not budge, as unmoving as a statue, too captivated by thin translucent skin and the rush of blood.

And there is a blink from both parties, before Edward snaps to his senses and belatedly falls back into the wall, moaning, "Oh, the cancerous leukemia, it... hurts!"

"Edward, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- Are you-"

"Ooh shiny," he does his mock impression of ADHD, pointing randomly down the hallway and dodging away from her grip.

At this point, he figures Sakura is right. He cares too much for his reputation, cares too much of what others think. Maybe that is why he gained mind reading powers to begin with. But reputation means nothing compared to this girl's life, his family's safety, and his own morals, so fuck it. If the mute sick boy or cold jerkass facades do not work, it is time to look like a crazy idiot.

Edward is about spent up on air, so he coughs obnoxiously, which manages to have Bella retreating fast. He ends the conversation quickly with, "There is nothing wrong with Sakura, stay away from me, I'm an erotomaniac, you know, I'll stalk and kill you, and I can't breathe now, emphysema kicking in, got to go, bye!"

With that, he bolts. For a sick person who cannot breathe, he runs pretty well.

Unfortunately, on top of his problems, Sakura's problems, and Bella's problems, his family has a few words, as they sashay into the hair care aisle and drag him away to the family's conference room.

"Edward, you've got problems," Rosalie snarls, pushing him down into a seat.

"Yes, I have realized that, Rose," Edward calmly replies. "But enlighten me, which problems are you referring to?" He has his list ready:

He is a monster.

He can't sleep.

His Japanese sucks.

He is hit with undying urges to suck a poor innocent girl dry of her blood.

He has AIDS.

His piano skills need some refinement-

"The new girl!"

Well, does not narrow it down by much. "Which one?"

Rosalie's fingers are a hair away from his neck when Emmett pulls her away and seats her down, leaving the Cullen Meeting officially in session, of which Alice begins.

"Edward, at the family's request, I have been gaining insight into everyone's future after today's accident, even Sakura-chan's, just to know where we all stand."

Edward is already reading into Alice's thoughts, and his eyebrows shoot up. "What! Sakura wouldn't-"

Alice nods, "There's this one..." A pause. "And this one." Another pause. "And these."

"She-"

"Sakura-chan is not only observant, but detailed and planned, Edward. That's why each vision is so vivid. But her mind has been crazy, the visions changing faster than I can catch them. But, do be wary if Sakura-chan decides to knock you unconscious, steal your DNA, and leave the country like I've shown you."

"She wouldn't," Edward says dryly.

"Wake up, Edward!" Rosalie snaps. "If she gets free control over your DNA, we're as good as exposed. I say we rid of her now. Jasper and I are more than enough."

Edward narrows his eyes. "No. Sakura and I had a deal. She's working for us. She's trying to solve _our_ blood problem."

"Only to reach _her_ final objective!" Rosalie hisses. "And she has already thought about cutting the middle step."

Carlisle sighs. "Edward, I have been looking into alternatives for centuries. While Sakura is talented, you should not be too optimistic of her success."

Alice closes her eyes. "And I only see no images of the cure. But if she does stay, these visions eventually lead to this one."

Upon entering Alice's mind, Edward finds himself in a world of wires and wheels, shouts and panic, a faint inhale and exhale of a breath, the flicker of a single heartbeat. The vision ends in black with only the sound of a single note, of a flatline.

His jaw tightens. "Who is he?"

"That, I do not know. But this person dies... or rather, dies in Sakura-chan's presence, whenever she chooses to stay."

Edward feels his throat constrict.

"Her decisions have a major influence on your future too," Alice adds, "and if she goes..." She presents to him two juxtapose visions, one a horrifying image of a dismantled corpse in a small yellow kitchen, shards of broken plates and blood splatters. The other contains a field of meadows and laughter.

"So Sakura leaves, I never get my cure, and end up eating the new, new girl."

"That, or you fall in love with Bella Swan," Alice kindly reminds, causing mixed reactions from the table.

"This is ridiculous," Edward mutters under his breath. He has known the Swan girl for less than a week, and an obsession for her blood is not exactly a good basis for a romance. What's next? He asks Miss Stanley to the prom? Enters a bromance with Newton? Is hit by giant dogs out of the sky?

But it does not matter. Sakura is staying. She has to; she gave him her word to help him out. Alice visions are only based on the subject's current mindset, and every person has doubts. Sakura is mapping out alternatives to reassess her own situation, nothing more.

The only thing Edward cares about... "What about my future if Sakura stays?"

She shows him.

He blinks. "Are those jet packs?"

_"Jet packs_?" Emmett make sure his hearing is in check.

A nod from Alice. "Jet packs."

"Jet packs," Esme, Jasper, and Carlisle feel is necessary to reconfirm.

"Yes, I see jet packs and much green in Edward's future if Sakura-chan decides to stay."

"Alice, just to double check, can you, uh, read Sakura's future again? See if the jet packs exist in her future too?" In other words, does _he_ exist in her future?

His sister complies, searching for Sakura's mind, and opens her eyes after experiencing much violence and gore, with Sakura trying to stomp Edward's bloody carcass down the hospital toilet.

A sharp hiss. "Ah, Edward..."

"She's been waiting in that bathroom for a while now, hasn't she," Edward says uneasily, reaching for the bottle of hair dye on the table.

"Sakura-chan is becoming more and more creative with your death. You should go."

Five minutes later...

"_HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GET SOME LOUSY HAIR DYE?_" Sakura punches in frustration.

And, of course, Edward's face makes another acquaintance with her fist... through one and three-eighths inches of wood that is the bathroom door.


	10. The Axis Mundi

"Excuse me, miss, may I?"

Sakura nods, then returns to untying her hiker boots, while a man from behind steps into the metal detector. It sounds. Unlike the security at Port Angeles, the LAX has much tighter regulations and more sensitive equipment. The security team is alert, eyes tracking the x-ray blotches of red, blue, and green.

The object in question turns out to be a wedding band.

Meanwhile, Sakura folds her jacket, delicately lines her shoes sideways in a bin, and plops down her backpack on the belt. At a wave of the security guard, she steps up but pauses before the arch. "Excuse me, sir. May I ask why this is necessary?"

"Just procedure." He beckons her forward.

As Sakura steps into the arch, he places on a grim smile. "So nothing will jeopardize our passengers' safety."

"I see."

Sakura passes breezily, then recollects her belongings. She ties back her shoes, gives it a good solid kick. She zips up, swings over her backpack, and pockets her hands, fingers tracing along the smooth edge of metal. Humming, she sets off for her flight down terminal five.

The woman next in line gets flagged. She bickers with the TSA over baby formula and a bottle of water. Unbeknownst to anyone, enough grams of explosion powder to blow up an entire airplane has slipped through.

One floor below, there is a holdup in the line. "Sir, sir, I just told you that no one may enter past this line without a boarding pass."

Edward snatches a boarding pass from thin air. "I just acquired one."

The security guard raises an eyebrow. "Sir, this is to Vancouver. For one Mrs. Blum."

"And I'm Missus Blum," cries an elderly lady with a limp, furiously trekking over to snatch back her stolen ticket. "The audacity, young man, of-"

"Just let me enter-"

"Hey, what's the holdup-!"

"My flight's in ten minutes-!"

"Bro, I told you this was a bad idea-"

"We've got a problem here, I repeat-"

"WILL YOU JUST LET ME IN!"

The entire three meter radius silences, including the newly arrived TSA chief and old grandma. Edward exhales, and as concisely as he can, "Potentially the most incredible woman of my life is on a flight leaving in T minus five minutes..."

"So?"

"... and I do not have her number."

There is a round of gasps, followed by murmurs amongst the crowd. Emmett pats his brother on the shoulder. "And just so everyone knows, he's an emotionally unstable, horny teenager, so he will not hesitate to purchasing a one way suicide ticket to Volterra if he can't find this chick. Thus, by stalling, you ALL will be responsible for the death of this piece of sexiness. How's that for guilty conscience?"

The crowd shuts up.

"Oh, and the girl in question clobbered his head with a fire extinguisher before she left, so there's a ninety-nine percent chance that, as with all teenage relationships, they will break up anticlimactically, star-crossed or not. Meaning, he'll be on the market soon."

It takes two seconds for the TSA to open the railing, and the grandma to hand over her and her husbands' ticket, winking and jabbing Edward with her elbow. "Have a nice trip laddies!"

"Thank you, ma'am," Emmett says with a salute of his imaginary feathered hat, before disappearing up the escalators.

The brothers scramble to security. "I cannot believe the Romeo gimmick worked," Edward grunted, removing his shoes.

"Emmett McCarty Cullen, playing Benvolio since 1915, at your service. Just be glad I didn't resort to plan B."

"Which would be...?"

"Making Juliet the terrorist."

One furlong away...

Sakura eyes the clock and decides she still has time to buy a pack of pretzels, the cheese kind that tastes eccentric. On her journey to the airport, an inhabitants of the car she sat on had a bag of it, and the smell whipping through the air drove her mad.

When the register dings, she fumbles through her pockets for her U.S. currency and instead withdraws a plastic bag with strands of auburn hair. Although she is quick to tuck it away, and the cashier is too brain-dead to notice, a child nearby does. He is tiptoeing on top of a bulky comics magazine to reach the water fountain, and stares curiously at the weird lady in the hiker boots and hunting jacket. Said lady smiles back.

"One more please," Sakura says, dropping a twenty on the counter. She goes down on a knee and gives the boy the second bag.

"_Danke_!"

"_Nichts zu danken_."

Meanwhile, Edward hops over the railing.

"Hold on, isn't this pass to Vancouver...?"

Edward and Emmett are already gone, running down the tunnel to the plane. Inside is a calm atmosphere of passengers, low chatter, and the bling request for an attendant's help with overhead bags. Emmett glances down the rows, becoming more skeptical with every passing second. There is only a handful of redheads, and last time he checked, Sakura is not four, obese, mid aged, pregnant, skanky, male, nor any combination of the above.

He knocks his brother on the arm. "Hey, Ed. All Alice saw was _1:30_, right? How are you sure this is the right flight?"

"Correction. _1:30 SW._"

"Ah, right, I see." Emmett resumes his search. Then, he walks back to his brother, who is describing the object of his stalking to a passenger. "Edward?"

"...about five-four, five-five, usually in a thick jacket..."

"Edward," Emmett coughs.

Edward snaps up. "You found her?"

"No, but, just for clarification, why does _1:30 SW_ lead us to Stockholm again?"

Edward does not have time for Emmett's mediocrity. "SW. Sweden. The only flight to Sweden at 1:30 PM is Stockholm."

Emmett scratches his chin in thought. "But aren't there two countries that begin with SW?"

A blink.

"... like Swiss? The cheese?" Emmett prods.

It takes a second for that to register in Edward's brain. "That," he says, "is not of Sweden, is it?"

The gentleman Edward was questioning, unable to slam his head into the seat in front of him any longer, decides to end the plague of stupidity. "Perhaps you boys mean Switzerland?"

The oh crap moment settles in as Edward spells out Switzerland and realizes with chagrin that it also begins with SW.

"And there are three countries," adds a lady from the seat behind the gentlemen. "Don't forget Swaziland."

But no one gives a damn about Swaziland.

Sweden and Switzerland are kind of significant though, and contrary to the American mentality, they are not the same. On top of completely different geographic locations, Sweden and Switzerland's total surface area, population, culture, politics, and language are about as similar as Georgia the country and Georgia the state… which is a useless analogy, because 98% of non-internationals in this airport would not have known the existence of Georgia the country, and half would not even remember Georgia the state.

Well, Edward and Emmett have somewhat of an excuse for this: their school does not offer Geography. If the students of Forks can think Alaska is next to Moscow, they can screw up Sweden and Switzerland as long as they do not become geographers or run for any presidential elections.

Or maybe not. By the time they reach the gate of the other 1:30 flight, the one to Zurich, Switzerland, land of the renowned Klinik Hirslanden hospital, the airplane is already long in the sky. Emmett consolidates his brother with, "It's alright. Grandma Blum's still waiting for you in Vancouver."

Edward growls and pushes on pass, much to his brother's dismay.

"Come on! Think about it, Edward. In a few more years, Facebook will hit mainstream. According to statistics, it's very likely she'll make one, and you can stalk her then. Therefore, there is no need to drag me all over Switzerland. I'm allergic to sheep."

There is absolutely no logical sense to Emmett's argument, not that it matters. Edward is not letting Sakura go, as he marches across the terminal to find the next possible flight to Zurich.

It has nothing to do with his stolen DNA, although the family is freaking out about it. It has nothing to do with romance either, contrary to his cover story.

It has everything to do with that fact that before Sakura, he was merrily continuing his eighth decade of human isolation, self-hatred, and extreme boredom, with just the right dosage of existential angst and contemplations of suicide. Before Sakura, he was continuing his fantastic career focusing on every single nitty-gritty detail why being a vampire is horrible, why his eternal life is eternal hell, and _exasperating the nerves off Rosalie_, because complains a lot, to himself in particular. His dramatic moments of despondency also does a wondrous job ruining the lovely weather of Forks for everyone.

_After_Sakura, he went from a brooding monster to a biologically superior humanoid species with the potential to re-engineer his awesome self to be even better. _After_ Sakura, his biggest nightmare turned into an investigation that could revolutionize the entire world, capable of upgrading the sad population of homo sapiens from horse-wagons to Ferraris. _After_ Sakura, he is living, with reason and purpose.

Edward will risk insanity before he loses someone like that.

A crunch.

"Excuse me, where is the service desk?"

"Past that stand."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sakura says, bringing another pretzel to her mouth. She flips a page of the Banzai magazine, engaged in the caricatures of king shamans, dramatic go playing, and a rubbery monkey pirate. She would have continued onto something with historically-inaccurate ninjas had she not blinked just then.

"Sakura?"

Oh crap.

Before she can get away, Edward has already taken her bag of pretzels as hostage.

"Wait, why are you not up there... somewhere," Emmett asks, pointing to one of the many compass directions facing upwards.

"I help lost boy find mother and missed flight," Sakura says, holding up the Banzai as if it gives indisputable evidence. "How did you know I where am?" Perhaps it is not the pretzels keeping Sakura seated, but her rising eyebrow corresponding with her rising curiosity. She takes pride in her ability to shake off tails, and to find them here is impressive.

"Uh, I can... read minds?" Edward tries at a lie and fails miserably, not so much because the lie is incredibly bogus, but because it is not a lie. "But never mind that. Why should I tell you anything, Sakura, after you nailed me with an extremely dense active fire protection device and stole my DNA."

"Because it is courteous to reply when someone speaks to you. Besides, you have regenerative powers, and I calculated any pain goes away after first eighteen minutes."

"She's got you there."

"Emmett, leave."

"Are you sure you want your common sense to leave-" At the strict point of a finger, Emmett holds up his hands in surrender and backs away.

"Sakura, we need to talk," Edward says.

"I believe you just said you will not to speak to me."

"I said I would not tell you anything, I didn't not say I would not speak to you."

"Is that possible? Or is this idiosyncrasy idiomatic?"

"Yes, it is."

"To first, second, or both?"

"Does it matter!"

"My answer depends on definition of matter."

Edward stops. Meanwhile, Sakura smirks, pleased to know her English has improved to the point she can bullshit off the top of her head, perhaps just capable of stalling long enough until her next flight arrives.

Meanwhile, Edward is mentally commanding himself to not take his anger out in the form of an unruly dent in the first object he sees, which in this case would be a soda machine whose death will upset diabetic lovers everywhere. Instead, he sinks into the opposite chair, bag of pretzels in hand.

"Sakura," he says in defeat. "Are you purposely torturing me. You can't just waltz into my life, claim you can fix everything about me, then leave me half way."

"I have own problems, Edward," Sakura says, leaning back in her chair. "I have no time to chase red tuna."

"It's herring, for Christ's sake."

"I do believe biologically speaking-"

Edward zips her up with a nonverbal linear gesture. "Sakura, I don't think you understand how important this is to my family. Your current solutions are working. The incense is allowing me to gain control over myself. The more I read, the more that blood substitute looks promising as well. You... you are doing the impossible for me."

"That is wonderful to hear, Edward. I found you good research topic, yes? You are intelligent. Finish rest by yourself."

"No, you opened this door for me, and you are going to walk me through it. You promised me a final cure, and I know you've been onto something for the past week."

"You will discover what I have in time. Or do you lack that much confidence in your abilities?"

"No, I am very confident in my abilities. I am very confident that if you're gone, before this week is through, Charlie Swan is going to have his daughter's splattered corpse as a new sauce for his chicken wings."

Sakura blinks back her surprise, then sobers up. "You work on that," she says grimly.

"With your help," Edward insists.

"I cannot." Sakura opts to distract her eyes with the cover of Banzai. "Though, if it does you well, I apologize for indenting your skull with dense active fire protection device and taking your DNA without permission."

Sakura does not suppose Switzerland will refund her chakra, but she can say at least she would not have distractions there. And an entire sidelines commitment that detours her mission is a distraction. Worse, with Edward and his peculiarities, her curiosity is tearing her from the inside out, her heart doing jumping jacks when she thinks of all research she could explore within vampirism.

Edward is not settling for an apology. "Sakura, there has to be something to make you stay."

"I cannot stay," Sakura sighs. "I have own problems, and no time."

"And we have problems too, but plenty of time." Emmett steps in. "How much time is no time?"

Edward turns to him. "What are you getting at."

Emmett run his hand through his hair. "Well, the problem with the new, new girl isn't really a big deal. We can always just chain you down to a chair and stuff you in Alice's closet until she graduates. Besides, we've lived this long without any magical cure, so I think we can live a little longer without it."

"And...?"

"How about we exchange problems as we did before?" Emmett suggests. "Only this time, instead of she fixing our problem first and then we help her, we fix her problem first then she helps us. We've got the resources, the money, and living this long, we've picked up smarts too. Granted that Sakura would be willing to share with us exactly what's making her go to Switzerland..."

The proposal strikes a nerve, and Sakura's finger twitch. If this is what she thinks it is, then everything changes.

And yet, the sun shines in glory through the windowsills, a clear division in the line between where she bathes in the light, and where they stand in the shadows. The clicks of computer strokes, and the soar of the airplanes, five hundred miles in the sky, accomplishing what the people of her homeland cannot dare dream of, carrying her out of a small rainy town and into the highest peaks of civilization.

Sakura realizes that, maybe, she is not running away from distraction but right towards it, escaping the bounds of her mission for her own pursuits.

However, before she can give her response, someone across the terminal points and shouts, "THEM, THEY STOLE MY BENTLEY."

And on the other side, "THE VANCOUVER PASSES."

"Sir, you two are under arrest for the violation of eighteen traffic laws, theft of an automobile, destruction of a cabbage stand, the illegal entering of an international airport, and loitering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you..."

Sakura hangs an eyebrow.

"So, think about that offer," Emmett laughs nervously in handcuffs, as Edward groans and slams his forehead against his brother's shoulder.

* * *

Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, Bella is too irked by the sudden and coincidentally timed disappearance of her two deskmates to concentrate on her homework anymore.

Instead, she finds herself Googling alien abductions, and contemplates whether or not to write a polite rant to tell them what complete assholes they are for ditching her, alone, in a biology lab that accounts for thirty percent of her grade.


	11. Of Thefts and Atonement

Sakura is aware she may have made a fatal mistake in her kunoichi career when she sits in a hotel room outnumbered six to one.

Edward snaps off his handcuff, just as the sixth member, a boy of austere expression, bolts the door shut. This boy is sharp, gaze trailing her, volatile as a lion. Sakura is more cautious of him than Edward's muscular brother against the wall. Meanwhile, on the bed is a viper, as disdainful as she is shapely, while Alice perches on the windowsill.

Sakura mentally winces. All her escapes are blocked, and Carlisle, the man in the middle of the room, is unreadable. She should be on a plane right now, not checked into an L.A. hotel, confronting a lethal family incensed by her robbery of Edward's DNA.

"Sakura."

She focuses on Carlisle, who extends his hand. "Before we start, please return the DNA."

After a final scan of the room, Sakura hands over the plastic bag with wires of coppery hair.

Carlisle gives her a look. Sighing, Sakura unzips her jacket, and from an interior pocket, takes out a slide. She unlaces her boots and pulls out a third sample, before finally slapping into his palm the forth. Once all hair, blood, tissue, and saliva samples are returned, Carlisle nods, and his children loosen.

"That was thorough, Sakura." Leave it to Carlisle to drop a compliment in the middle of a death interrogation.

Sakura mumbles, "Actually, I also want sperm sample, but time did not permit."

"I know. Which is why I will say now, that I forbid Edward from having sexual intercourse with you."

While Edward chokes on his spit, the rest of his family fights back snorts. Then there is Sakura, who folds her arms. "Dr. Cullen, twenty percent of your country's population carries sexually transmitted disease, several of which terminal. The vampire clan may be immune, but I will engage in no activities until after I see results of medical testings." Then as an afterthought, "I will not with your son, regardless."

Ouch.

Sakura directs her hostility towards Edward with a nasty look. Edward admits he did mislead Sakura, gave her the idea that she would be negotiating one-on-one, not get cornered. Still... _ouch_, never has he heard a rejection, and one that blatant, until now. On the other hand, his siblings smirk, and Rosalie might not kill Sakura yet, just to see how else Sakura can damage her darling brother's ego.

Carlisle, however, wants to go back to business. "Edward is also the one who wants me to give you money and connections for your work. I cannot do so until you tell me what that is."

He waits until Sakura caves in. From her backpack, she throws him a folder. The characters are a mixture of kanji and kana, but Carlisle is familiar enough with Japanese to know it is not. But he says nothing of this, only flips to diagrams, of cells and molecules, trying to make sense of the workings of this girl.

Sakura is confident that Carlisle will turn up empty handed. She has given classified information that not only is written in a different language, but also encrypted. Only the Konoha elite can make anything of it.

As predicted, Carlisle gives in. "What am I seeing?"

"Pleurisy," Sakura says. "Chest pain and cough are first symptoms, from fibrosis of parenchyma."

Edward raises an eyebrow. "Rheumatoid arthritis?"

"Sarcoidosis?" tries Emmett with a shrug.

Carlisle hushes their wild guesses, as he examines closer the diagrams and asks Sakura about the next page.

"Neurodengeneration, second symptom. Amyloidosis."

Page by page, Sakura continues to describe a systematic failure of the human body, of a disease as deadly as artistic, letting the victim hold himself hostage. It is a disease that throws the whole body in discord, but no matter how high up you track the symptoms, the causes of the causes, you cannot find the source.

Sakura has faced many frightening opponents in her life, but never the hand of a shinigami that can hold a beating heart and, at whim, close its fist. And as she talks, she is reminded that _time_ is a worse enemy than a clan of vampires. She cannot run.

Carlisle closes the portfolio. "And what is the purpose of this?"

"Someone is dying, Dr. Cullen. I cannot just let him," Sakura murmurs. "I had hoped your people recognize this illness and have cure."

"Until you realized we didn't," Carlisle finishes for her. "In which case, you decided your stay in Forks is over."

Sakura says nothing. Carlisle hands Sakura back her files. "So you think, if there is no cure, you will create it yourself. There are many places in the world with the tools and resources to help you do that. It is unfortunate, but I must tell you that such thinking is dangerous, and a delusion."

Once again, Sakura says nothing. She does not need him to tell her the case is hopeless. She knows how medicine progresses, how it takes the collaboration of hundreds of thousands, from the technicians to the doctors to the cryptographers. It takes billions of dollars and endless resources. Finally, it takes time, decades of trial and error, mapping the most insignificant details before a hint reveals itself.

She _knows_.

When it becomes clear that Sakura remains unbent, Carlisle changes his approach.

"Elizabeth," he says, and Sakura does not follow. However, she notices how Edward has frozen.

"You may see me as patronizing, Sakura, but I know more of what you are experiencing than you think," Carlisle says, "I know what it feels to be helpless."

After a glance at Edward, Sakura asks, "Was this Elizabeth ill?"

"Not at first. Her son was." Carlisle's gaze never leaves Sakura. "The disease was highly infectious, but she couldn't abandon him. She took care of him, and because of it, fell ill herself. I tried everything to help her, but death did not wait. By the time science pulled through, and the first influenza vaccine was engineered, Elizabeth Mason had been buried for twenty seven years."

After a silence, Sakura says, "You blame yourself for her death."

"Just as you will blame yourself."

Years of training regiment fails, as Sakura's poker face crumble, the fears she has suppressed since the beginning of her mission surfacing.

"If this person is important to you, Sakura," Carlisle says, "go home. Be with him while you still can. Science cannot be pushed to come, and those who force it otherwise will only find an early death."

For a moment, Sakura feels the same nauseating wave in her stomach, the da-thump, da-thump of chakra deficiency, that warns her once again that she has overwelcomed her stay in the New World. The cost of saving Bella and Tyler has been too much, what drove her to the desperation of leaving Forks in the first place. Things were progressing too slow; she needs to get the cure before her body gives in on her.

Only there _is no_ _cure_.

She closes her eyes.

From where Edward stands, he clenches a fist. His family has betrayed him. Carlisle is not interested in a collaboration with Sakura; he is getting her to leave. Jasper is changing the atmosphere, pressuring Sakura into a corner. Alice is going through images of the aftereffects of Sakura's decisions. They are all working together, and they all want her gone.

Edward has enough. He is about to speak up, when Sakura stands up, and Jasper backtracks.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen, but enough preamble. If Edward wants me to cure him of blood fixation, I need two million U.S. dollars, and access to these laboratories." Sakura gets to the point, handing Carlisle a list of locations. "I also need assistants, including Edward, although if you can find me others of higher competence who can follow orders and keep secrets, that is preferable. In the case I require other favors, they will be provided to me."

With that, Sakura reseats, eyes direct. Edward snaps to Jasper, who is forcing more of his powers onto Sakura, trying to shake her up. But no matter what he does, she remains composed.

Manipulating her emotions have no effect anymore, because she has removed herself from them, the first and most crucial technique taught at the Academy, what allows children to be able to run through Iwa mines, slice throats, pull themselves together and survive after their teammates fail to. She is no longer motivated by the smiles of friends, but by a clear, unquestionable order.

"Finally, my mission has priority," she finishes. "I will not look for your cure, not until either mine is found or my patient is dead. Are these terms understood?"

The hotel room falls to silence, which is then broken by a laugh. The laugh comes from Rosalie, her shoulders shaking, her smile full of teeth. Through a curtain of curls, she looks at Sakura in more amusement than pity. "You still don't get it, do you? Carlisle is being nice. That DNA stunt you pulled has royally pissed us off, and we're giving you a chance to _scram _with your life. We hardly have any intention of following with your little charade."

Sakura is unfazed. "I was under impression your family is _very_ desperate to rid thirst."

"And just what can an eighteen year old girl do that we cannot? Everyone in this room understands the elementary biology you spew, so I hope you didn't measure our intelligence by _Forks_ High School."

"Neither should you measure my capacity by my vocabulary," Sakura counters. "It is only elementary, because your language lacks equivalent terminology for concepts I try to express. Also, I care not of your comprehension level. You can have centuries of knowledge, but if you cannot accomplish anything in field, you are useless."

Alerted, Emmett steps in, and Jasper puts the whole room under calm before Rosalie can attack.

Sakura lowers her eyelids. "Had _you_ a cure, I need not offer."

Rosalie takes a moment to keep her temper in check. Then, with a plastered smile, she says, " And what on earth makes you think you will succeed in finding it. What evidence do you have for us to invest two million dollars in _you_."

"This."

Rosalie catches the folder.

"That's-" Edward snaps his head to Sakura. After she conked his head with a fire extinguisher, she must have taken all the files of their joint research. There was not time for a full scrutiny of the lab; by the time Esme shook him awake, Alice had already seen Sakura at the airport.

"Blood substitute? _That's _what you two devised?" Rosalie spits, reading the reports with disdain, then throws them away. Edward springs to catch the papers. "You fool. If blood substitutes were at all edible to us, we'd be peaches now. Don't waste my time with this crap."

"Yes, Edward told me first day blood substitutes no better effect on hunger than chicken noodle. Do you know _why_?"

From Rosalie's expression, no, she does not know nor care. After the family tried hemoglobin solutions back in the 50s, and the results failed miserably, they have not returned to the topic since. Because Edward believed his fate is doomed, he took the hemoglobin failure as another mark of defeat, not as an inspiration that such a solution _could_ exist. That humanity was already working to grab it.

But from what Sakura sees, Rosalie, in her well matched leather jacket and heeled boots, is clearly a woman who shares no such despair. Rosalie finds the works of the scientists too insignificant and uninteresting to be worthy of her time, but nonetheless expects to enjoy the fruits of their labors. She can stand some nuisance with thirst until then, and it will take much more to convince her to get involved into the toils of research when she can just sit and wait for science to pull through.

Only, no one can freeload forever. Whether a race or a civilization, the more you fall behind, the more you rely on others, the more you fall to their mercy. Sakura wonders just how long before globalization is complete and there is no where left for vampires to hide, how long before physics uncover chakra and the satellites detect her homeland.

"To cure my patient, I need to know the constituent responsible for vampire revitalization," Sakura says. "To cure your family, I need to know the constituent responsible for vampire metabolism. You need to invest in me, because the world is closing in, and it is in your favor to have this knowledge about yourselves before all of humanity does."

* * *

Rosalie has Edward in a choke-hold.

"You did _not _tell us that girl planned to cure her little boyfriend through _vampire venom_."

Had Edward not been able to slip through her grip, he would have spent the next hour patting the hotel hallway for his decapitated head.

"I didn't know!" He backsteps when Rosalie struts forward, ready to chew him alive. "I hardly knew what _our _research was on, let alone hers."

Only belatedly does Edward realize how absolutely _no help_ that comment is in helping his case. Thankfully, Jasper is loading Rosalie with happy thoughts, and Alice comes to his defense. "And you never told Sakura-chan about the venom, right, Edward?"

"No, of course not. She just thinks we are genetically different, potentially a separate species. I never told her anything supernatural about us, like the venom or powers."

Jasper's lips pull in a thin line. "And realize that had you not taken our advice of keeping that information from her, she would be injecting that venom into her patient as we speak. Potentially many other folks too."

"She wouldn't-"

"She would," Rosalie snaps. "She is trying to save a _dying man_, Edward, and she is very desperate. We're going to have a huge problem if Japan suddenly fell on the Volturi's radar because of us."

"Calm down, Rose!" Emmett grabs his wife before she can assault anyone. "The Volturi is _not_ getting involving in anything! We have locked up there an _eighteen year old girl_, and you think she's going to start some sort of international crisis."

"Any eighteen year old girl that can cut my powers is a threat," Jasper says dryly. "I must side with Rosalie on this one. Alice?"

Alice flickers her gaze between the split sides and skips away from the fight. "My visions are the same as before, I'm afraid."

"See, no cure!"

"And certainly no Volturi!"

The hallway falls into chaos and noise, until the door opens, and Carlisle steps outside. Everyone turns their attentions to him, waiting for his final judgment.

Carlisle merely gives a tired smile.

"Though Sakura is very delightful, she is most difficult and certainly expensive. For the delay, she wants a flight to Zurich in three hours, and your prompt assistance, Edward."

"And?"

"And she then she bowed and apologized. She said if we were to refuse her, she must then kill us and proceed her mission solo."

"Wait, now I'm confused," Emmett says, letting go of Rosalie. "So are we helping this chick or killing her?"

Carlisle does not give an answer. "I believe that would be for Edward to decide. It is he, after all, who wishes to ally with her."

Technically, Edward wants _Sakura_ to ally with _him_, wants _Sakura_ to assist _him_, but you know what, whatever. The more important issue now is that Carlisle has given him the seat of power, letting him decide.

Had this been a day or two ago, Edward would have defended Sakura till the end. In those months, they spent far too much time together in school and labs. They were too familiar, too comfortable. Sakura was the first person outside his family he has ever bonded with in Forks, and hell, he dared say he was Sakura's friend as well. Maybe given a little more time, their relationship could have turned into something more.

But then Bella and Tyler's stupid truck had to ruin everything. It is difficult _not _to hesitate now that Edward understands Sakura is a pragmatic, violent, and unmanageable bitch, and he should worry less that she will break his heart, and more that she will carve it out and store it in a jar of formaldehyde. And he has to admit that he's a bit intimidated – okay, shit-scared – when he enters the room alone, and Sakura stares back at him, face devoid of emotion.

"So you accept my conditions?"

Edward holds his breath, and...

"Okay, just for clarification, this guy we're curing... he's _not _your boyfriend, right?"

Sakura stares at him harsher.

Then...

Her face flushes red, and she starts sputtering, "What, of course _not_! Where did you get such conception- I love his _brother-_" When Edward furrows his eyebrow, she frantically waves her hands. "Lov_ed_. Past tense. I mean, I still love him now, but not same way- I mean, it _was_ childhood crush- I'm _over_ that now. Wait! Do not understand me wrongly, that does not mean I have any _prejudice _against Itachi-san just because his brother and I did not work out. He is great, but he is my patient, and so much older, five years gap a little too wide, that relationship cannot work, and..."

While Sakura rambles on in a frenzy of hand gestures, Edward refrains from commenting that he himself is her patient, and _eighty_-five years older than her. But screw it, he does not even care, because what he takes from her overly lengthy reply is that Sakura is single.

And that is all that matters, as he picks up his cellphone for a call to the airport. Two million? That is less than his Lamborghini, and last time he checked, the car did not revolutionize his world.


	12. Rockman, I Choose You!

Over the next month and half, Bella has gotten to hate her nonexistent tablemates. While they have disappeared for their honeymoon in the Caribbeans, or so the school says, she has worked solo. And after seventy hours of labor, managed to pull an A- out of her ass. Not bad, except she half suspects the grade is less due to her work, and more to her teacher's pity.

On the bright side, in one lovely March morning, when the weather is less subzero and more plain depressing, she is asked out by three guys in a consecutive row, with such timing she swears they coordinated it as some sort of horrible joke.

She said "No" to all three, as implausible as it is to both herself and her neurotic mother over the phone. Back in Arizona, _no one _asked Bella out. It did not improve her self-esteem, but at least it did not make her desperate either. In fact, because no one asked Bella out before, instead of dating, she read teenage romance novels about knights, sorcery, and vampires in her spare time, which in return gave her ridiculously high expectations in men.

Mike, for example, would be labeled by novels as the not-bad-looking but douchey jock that is reserved for the alpha bitch cheerleader. Then there is the forever alone, nerdy Eric, who really needs a shower to rid of the grease and dandruff out of his hair. And Tyler... um, he is _nice_, but some braces cannot hurt and his nose a little too wide, and well, he is just not good-looking enough.

Like all girls, Bella will not ever, _ever _admit this, but she goes by looks. The guy has to be _attractive_ and _desired_ by lots of female competition. And if she lets herself be bought by any guy below her standards, then she sold herself out.

Then there is Edward. That guy is _too hot for his own good_, and thus, she bangs her head against the table, because damn it, she should not be after someone who is taken. It is disappointing to think that Sakura got to Edward first, to find herself the side character instead of the main star.

However, even without Edward, Washington is unexpectedly saturated with good-looking people.

For one, Bella did not expect to see Jacob on her trip to First Beach. Neither did she think he would grow up to be so cute. Both Forks and Arizona are predominantly white, so it is exotic to see any boy with bronze skin and thick dark hair. And although he is younger than her, when they separate from the group for a private walk down the beach, she realizes she has to look up to meet his eyes, and there is a bit of the Tarzan and Jane romance.

"So what was he saying about the doctor's family?" Bella does not mean to pull the conversation towards Edward, _again_, but she is running out of things to talk about, and like all girls, she wants to gossip about attractive guys.

"The Cullens? Oh, they're not supposed to come onto the reservation." Jacob stops for a moment to survey the peaks of James Island, the third time now.

"Why not?"

She breaks him out of his distraction, and he returns to the conversation with a guilty smile. "Oops. I'm not supposed to say anything about that."

"Oh, I won't tell anyone. I'm just curious."

Jacob examines Bella for a moment, who tilts her head and smiles in a teasing manner. Bella is not a master at flirting, but Jacob buys into it. He does not need his dad egging him on to get a shot at Charlie's daughter, because he admits he has liked her since the beginning. There are not many new faces at the reservation, and Bella has always been his fairy of sorts, giving him a small peek of her now and then before waving her goodbye.

Jacob goes bold and whispers in the darkest voice puberty can pull off. "Do you like scary stories?"

"I love them." The crack in Bella's voice give her lie away. Definitely a fairy, because no way he can ever get such a reaction from his sisters. Or any of the iron-blooded Quileute girls.

Ahead is a driftwood with jutting roots, where Jacob takes perch. Not as ambitious, Bella leans against the trunk to listen.

"Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from? The Quileutes?"

"Not really."

"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood. Supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark. Another legend claims that we descended from wolves, and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them." He pauses for dramatic effect, then beams a flashlight under his chin. "_And then there are the Cold Ones_."

On cue, Bella falls back in a scream. Laughing, Jacob extends a hand and takes Bella's beating and fussing.

"_Don't _do that!"

Jacob gives a unpromising shrug, then whips back, full of teeth. "_Blood_!" Which gets Bella knotted even tighter.

"That is not funny!"

"I think it is." Jacob grins, ready to pace on ahead when he hears a groan.

Bella jumps. "Jacob, cut that out!"

"That wasn't me."

"No, really, stop-" Bella freezes.

Something is grabbing her leg. Some_one_ is grabbing her leg. A _hand _is grabbing her leg. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh motherflipping god on rice.

Jacob scoops her into his arms in one sweep, ready for a zombie apocalypse. But the hand only waves some more before dropping flat into the sand. Half buried on the beach is a human body tangled in the seaweed and algae.

* * *

"Oh he's a _cold one_, alright." Harry arrives with a quilt for the unfortunate stranger huddling by the fire. Harry exchanges a look with Billy Black, who shakes his head and rolls back his wheelchair.

"Whatever language he's spewing, it ain't English, that's for sure," Billy mumbles, and Harry gets another good eye at the stranger. Catching his gaze, the stranger greets him with a smile, fast in his words, with a nudge towards the blanket as thank you.

In the distance, the students from Forks frantically whisper to each other. The kids from the reservation are more composed, but they stare at the trio by the fire in curiosity. It is not every day that a body washes up on their beach.

"Are you okay, Bella? You've got goosebumps."

Mike, within earshot of Angela, turns around. "You cold, Bella? Here, take my jacket."

Bella glances at Mike's cheerleader love interest and concludes the safest answer is a rejection. "No, I'm good."

"She's scared, moron, not cold." Jacob pulls Bella into his arms before Mike can approach any closer with the jacket. Mike glares. Staring contest of male dominance over mate ensues, all while Jessica, the forgotten love interest, gives Bella the daggers. Eric and Tyler hover nearby, waiting for the opportune time to step in.

Bella's dramatic episode ends when Harry steps in. "Alright, we need a translator here. Chinese or something. Which one of you Asian?"

All eyes fall to Ben Cheney, the token Asian guy of Forks High School. "What. I don't know Chinese! I'm half-_Japanese._"

Harry beckons him over. "Chinese, Japanese, good enough. Come here, boy."

Ben is sputtering. "But I'm born here."

"But don't you read Japanese comics?" Angela says, nudging him forward.

"Yeah, _translated_."

"_And_ watch animations?"

Ben winces. Okay. So maybe he cannot handle the blasphemy that is 4Kids dub. But the general population does not quite seem understand that his comprehension level of his native language is restricted to yatta! nani? and heroic shouts of _GUNDAM_!

At Angela's insistence, he follows Harry anyway, and everyone else follows him.

The whole introduction is stupid, because the stranger looks blatantly Chinese, right down to the buttons on his anachronistic tunic and pants. Nonetheless, succumbed to peer pressure, Ben mumbles out in one breath, "Kon'nichiwa, boku wa Ben da. O-namae wa?" much to the awe of his non-Japanese peers.

After a silence and much blinks, the stranger beams _radiantly_. "Rokku Rī to moushimasu. Yoroshiku onegai itashimasu, Ben-san."

Heads whip back and forth during the exchange, as the Ben and the stranger continue the conversation, enriched with creative hand gestures and occasional bursts of heartily laughs. Twenty minutes of dialogue that no one understands later, a cheery Ben turns to his audience.

"So...?" someone asks.

"Well, his name is Lee," Ben explains.

"And...?"

"And that's all I got," Ben says, shrugging, much to everyone's dramatic collapse. Under more collective peer pressure, Ben elaborates by saying that the stranger, Lee, speaks Japanese, but his accent is so strong that communication between them is shot down to randomly strung words about aliens, robots, and girls.

Speaking of girls, Lee is looking for one. At Billy's insistence, Ben asks about the girl.

Lee replies, if not too enthusiastically.

"He says something about kumquats taking over the world, so he needs to see his girlfriend quickly. Do you know where she is?"

To assist Ben with his kumquat explanation, Lee takes out a photo. While all the students of Forks choke on their spit, Jacob blankly stares at the picture of a girl hugging two highly irritated, sexually charged boys. The picture is of no significance to him, until Harry scratches his chin and says, "Well, have my heart. Isn't that Sakura?"

And to fuel to the fire, Lauren adds, "But isn't Sakura on her honeymoon in the Caribbeans? With _Edward_?"

* * *

"I can't believe she got involved with _them_." Harry settles down on the couch and drops his hat on his lap. "Came with no family, no friends. Shouldn't have just sent her off." He wipes the sweat from his brow, then reaches for Mr. Peanuts.

His wife whacks his hand away before he could touch a single cashew, much to his despair. "Don't jump to conclusions," Sue Clearwater says as she stows away the nuts. "We don't know the full story yet."

"Sixteen students from Forks all confirm that this girl has been missing for over a month now. The last they know of her, she has been interacting with the Cullens," Billy says.

"Speculation is not grounds for war. Not to mention the family has set no foot on our lands, as far as we are aware."

"So we do nothing."

"Forks is out of our jurisdiction."

"_Charlie_ is in Forks. What if that hadn't been some stranger, but his daughter. Bella is all Charlie has, Sue. He'd be devastated if anything were to happen to her."

Billy grips the edge of his wheelchair hard, but Sue's skin is thick, and if anything disturbs her, she never lets it slip. Instead, she says, "Then we notify him of our recent guest, and let him investigate this case of the missing girl. He _is_ the police chief of Forks, and deserves to be prepared accordingly."

Billy takes a sudden spike in blood pressure, his voice turned bitter. "As if I haven't tried. But no matter what I say, he is in adamant favor of the so-called _doctor_! Charlie doesn't take my precaution, he is married to that house of his, and-" Billy takes control of himself and closes a fist. "Something bad is going to happen to him at this rate. We're not pulling him into this. It's better to have him wrong about the Cullens than have him dead."

"Then what do we do," Sue says. "We have here someone searching for a girl who no one knows where she lives, and no one knows where she is at."

When Billy rolls out of their house, Sue rubs her temples. In their youth, Billy has been as cunning as he is stubborn, and he needs neither support nor legs to take action.

Said action begins with persuading Charlie over the phone to let Bella stay over for the night – without asking for Bella's opinion, much to her discontent. Along with a subtle suggestion that sixteen kids does not divide evenly into three cars, plus the fact that teenagers with questionable permits are driving his daughter home in the dark, neither Charlie nor Bella could be more outraged. Charlie demands to pick up his daughter. Horrified by the thought of a blaring cruiser arresting her classmates, Bella rushes to accept Billy's invitation. Jacob can drive her home next morning.

After Billy hangs up the phone, he sends his son a wink. Jacob grins. His dad is awesome like that.

Over dinner, the conversation turns towards two things: how Bella's fitting in at Forks, and the beach incident. Both directions point towards Sakura. Although Bella has not given much thought about Sakura's leave from school from before, the more they refer to Sakura as "the missing girl," the more unnerved she gets. "Missing girls" in newspapers mean "dead girls", and that is clearly the vibe she is getting.

"Well, there are rumors," Bella says, biting her fork.

"Oh?" Billy urges.

"Yeah. They say she's an alien." Bella points a finger to the ceiling, in all seriousness, and the Black family introduces their foreheads to the table.

Still, Jacob gets curious about the case of the "missing girl", distracted to the point he does not notice he is touching Bella's hand for control over the salad tongs until Bella pulls away. He covers the blunder with a laugh, then goes back to thinking about the photograph.

None of this escapes his father, who confronts him after Bella has retreated to the guest room. "You okay, son?"

Jacob breaks out of his thoughts, remembering the running faucet. "Oh yeah." He sets the dishes on the rack.

"Doesn't look that way."

Although Billy does not say anything more, Jacob winces at the look on his father's face. For the rest of the night, he focuses his attention back on Bella.

Growing up, Jacob has learned to hate two things: men who throw away their families, and women who run off with lovers. Sakura is obviously a girl of the second category, and certainly not worth his time.

Except... well, unlike Charlie, the men Sakura left behind do not seem too upset about it.

After Jacob drives Bella home in the morning, with a casual reminder to not get too involved with the Cullen-Sakura case, he drops by the Clearwaters. The elder sister answers the door, dark rings under her eyes.

"Lee-lee," Jacob nervously greets.

Leah grabs her jacket, and pushes pass him for her much needed escape from the house. The overall volume of the Clearwater residence has cranked up to twenty, as Jacob hears Seth's shouts from out back.

"... 487, 488, 489, 490! You go Rockman! Ten more! 491..."

Seth sits on the stranger's back for the duration of his five hundred push ups. Once complete, they both shout, high five, and proceed to do five hundred situps. Or rather, Lee does five hundred, and Seth works his way to stretch past fifty. His parents watch from aside in amusement.

"They've been at this since 5 AM," Sue informs Jacob, who is still gawking. While he dismissed the stranger as some flake last night, the current eight packs are dismissing that hypothesis fast. This Sakura girl left _that_?

"32, 33, 34- Oh hey, Jake! You joining us?"

It is not until three hundred or so that Lee notices someone moving in sync to him. In reaction to Jacob's challenging glare, he gives a smile white enough for Colgate commercials, before increasing speed. Seth, long collapsed on the ground, just gasps for breath and watches in awe of the other two.

By five hundred, Jacob's breath is labored, but his grin is smug. Until he realizes his competitor has not broken a sweat, and is moving on to kicking, with a lightning series of front kicks, followed by a backspin. Now _that_, Jacob cannot do. Nor is he a younger version of Bruce Lee, who can knock down a tree trunk after twelve kicks. Seth shouts timber.

"_Wow, Sakura-san is right. These trees are weak__,_" Lee mumbles, then remembers something, straightens up, and repeatedly bows to his host family in apology for the destruction of their property.

He is forgiven when Seth shouts, "Hey, hey, Rockman! I can do that!", then roundhouses a tree. Only to twitch, hop on one foot, and cradle his other. He pouts. "Okay, maybe not. But you're teaching me!"

Lee is not sure what happened to his training, but he is teaching someone one minute and sparring someone else the next minute. It seems Lee has unknowingly offended this person, but cannot hazard a guess how.

"_I apologize about the tree__,_" he says as he dodges Jacob's punch. "_You are righteously indignant__." _He ducks again without effort and drop kicks. "_Oops. I apologize for that too. Sorry. My fault._"

While Jacob fights the urge to scream, Seth runs inside for a camera. Harry and Sue exchange a look. With a pleasant smile, Harry says, "You know, my kung fu isn't bad."

"Why don't you join them, my kung fu panda," Sue scoffs, patting him in the belly, before leaving to find the advice of Old Quil about what to do with this mess.


	13. Within Apotheosis

Sakura must say she is _enthralled_ to spend her honeymoon with the hunkilicious Edward Cullen in the middle of... Russia. In winter.

Fudgers, it is cold.

Fudgers, vampire bodies produce no body heat, thus eliminating huddling as an option for maintaining homeostasis.

However, cold aside, with the help of Carlisle and collaborators scattered abroad, they have hit seven countries and entered stage three in astonishing time.

Sakura is surprised. She took Edward along for grunt work. While he has a sharp mind, too many instances of pure retardation have made her dismiss him as an intellectual partner.

He has proven her wrong. After the third week, he could point out her flaws and show her better New World methodology. He makes breakthroughs a week later, all of which Sakura finds are right and she must smirk to him in a mixture of approval, jealousy, and a shitload of skepticism.

_He's pulling answers out of his ass_! her inner self accuses, but Sakura ignores. As long they are the _right _answers, then by all means, keep pulling.

Unbeknownst to Sakura, Edward _is_ cheating. Since the start of their journey, he has ripped apart his Harvard Med degree and studied harder than ever. He can understand now, but it is not enough to make his own breakthroughs. Alice can see Sakura's, though. And although Edward hates to take credit for Sakura's future discoveries, they need every shortcut they can get.

"Hold on, Alice, she's waking up."

"_Wait, Edward, there's one last thing, we've got-_"

From the floor, Sakura groans in her futon. Numerous all-nighters have made her a wreck, right down the baggy eyes and giant red afro. She hides from the light. "What time is it?"

"4:44 AM. Go back to sleep."

"What unlucky time," Sakura mumbles. But instead of going back to sleep, she rests a little longer, then rolls out to scavenge for food. In their bags are stale bread, moldy bread, brick bread, burnt bread, soggy bread, and other carbohydrates in bread form that can fuel a human body but tastes like crap.

Sakura catches what Edward throws to her. She takes a bite of mozzarella, and her eyes sparkle with more intensity than his vampiric skin.

"Do eat it with the bread, Sakura."

Since Sakura is awake, he uses the time to brief her in. Excel sheet is done, the beta sample is in the cooler, machines are running tests, and oh, by the way, it is _definitely_ the protein structure. Then he asks for her update.

"Unlike you, Edward, I cannot make revelations in sleep."

"That's not what I meant. I mean..." Edward looks at her from his peripheral. "How are you doing? As a vampire, I have no right to talk, but you've been getting pale."

Sakura's back stiffens, and she munches on more mozzarella. "No exposure to sunlight does that. Ask dermatologists, yes?"

Edward senses her trouble. "You know, if there's anything wrong, you _can_ talk to me about it. I can help." Maybe. Sort of. He cannot repair sunken UFOs, close black holes, or democratize alien civilizations, if that is what she needs. What he _can_ do is fetch her more cheese, and maybe wine and candles, because romanticism is still his strongest subject, and he can bring a blush back to most girls. And guys. And a lot of grannies.

Sakura reminds herself that he means well. With a sigh, she says, "Do not worry. If you can help, I would exploit all boundaries of our friendship for it."

"So we're friends now."

She pauses before her next bite. "Comrades."

"Well, comrade Sakura, while we wait for the results to come in, mind informing me of the girl I've been working with for the past half year?"

It is Russia. Sakura can avoid talking about her personal life in any country but here, where the isolated winter wonderland gets intolerable for social creatures. Creatures like ninjas and vampires.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Who are you?"

She grins. "Sakura Haruno."

"Not what is your name. _Who _are you?"

"Can I ask you same question first?"

Sure. A vampire. A historian, who read books dating to antiquity to see the roots of his ancestry. A chemist and philosopher, inspired by professor Conant during his second entry into Harvard. A businessman in New York when skyscrapers rose. And later, a musician returning to his first love of composition, wanting to bring beauty into a world that Michelangelo and Shakespeare and Debussy left behind.

A product of his mother, who hummed stories of the ages of the Renaissance, and his surrogate father, a man who evolved through the Enlightenment. But also a boy, in the modern era of fast cars, blasting music, and digital electronics, who maybe did have a few flirts back in Alaska, and yes, has done stupid shit that his siblings will never let down.

Overall, a _person_. Not a statue, not a god, but a person with his own set of beliefs and meaning in his world. And as of now, a person he wants to Sakura know about.

Sakura looks thoughtful for a minute, then lies down on the futon.

"Well?"

"Monologue too long, did not listen."

Cue collapse. "_Sakura_!"

She sticks out her tongue. "I joke. You have rich history. Interesting figure. If time permits in future, I like to listen more, understand development of New World through you."

"And you?"

Sakura looks up at the laboratory ceiling, and puckers her lips into a contemplative frown. "Different than you. You are man of many things. I have followed only one path."

Girl. Two parents, great parents, who retired early to raise her well. Followed the crowd and mainstream. Had no idea what she wanted except what all girls what: the totally cute boy that just _has_ to be her soul-mate. Chased him for years until he finally turned around, and she realized...

Awkward. They are totally- no, _astronomically_ awkward together, with enough fake, twitching smiles to model for plastic surgery ads.

Not to mention...

"Wait, the guy chasing you hooked up with the guy you chased?" Edward could not flex his intonation any more even if he tried.

"Yes. By that point, relationship dead as cat in box."

Edward refrains from asking the rhetorical question of _what?_, and closes his dangling jaw. "Wow... that's... that's tough."

Eh, life happens. She moved on, though never found the romance she was looking for. When Edward asks how that translated into her current biomedical genius, Sakura shrugs. "Not genius, but circumstance. As child, I read books to impress crush. I can memorize facts, do mathematics. I had privilege of world-class mentors. They are terrifying, but help me find niche, and what I am good at is coincidentally what people need."

His cellphone is beeping, but Edward does not spare a look when he shuts it off. He watches Sakura pick at the cheese wrapper and mumble on about how it would be _better_ if she were a genius, if she could be smarter, come up with this cure sooner, because gods she is scared of going back home in failure, and-

"I think, that to be where you are now, you're pretty incredible already," he says.

Sakura looks up at Edward, who is smiling that crooked grin of his, and she finds herself furrowing her eyebrows and smiling back. She is cute when she does that. Extremely cute, and goddamn it, why is he cellphone still buzzing and ruining the moment!

It is not his cellphone.

It is the machine. Their sample is done, and Sakura jumps to her toes. Minutes later, there is a celebratory cheer.

With a sigh, Edward returns to his laptop and says, "So, stage three, complete?"

Sakura comes back with a bottle. "_Yes_!"

"Great. So, what's stage four?"

Sakura slaps on a pair of gloves. "Testing."

"And what do you need me to-" Edward looks up to see Sakura smiling cheerful at him, loaded syringe in hand.

"Arm, please."

Edward looks at her, then at the syringe, then at his arm, then at the syringe. "Isn't that the super disease that is painfully killing your patient?"

"And you are 100 percent certain of your immortality."

Edward looks at the syringe some more, because the thing about studying a lethal disease for six weeks is that you start to understand just why you would never want it. "Did I say 100? I mean 94... 84... 64... Zero! Zero!_Sakura_!"

* * *

Brett uneasily glances at the man glaring at him from across the lobby and sets down the phone. Wiping his nose, he says, "I apologize, Dr. Cullen is not avail-"

"You lie."

Brett wipes harder, dabbing his temple with the sleeve of his coat, a horrid violation of sanitary codes. But the man has a rifle, and he seems eager to use it.

"Mister, this is a hospital, firearms are not-"

Billy cocks his rifle. "I know."

Brett decides the optimal way of extending his lifespan is sit down, shut up, and spam the call button until Carlisle arrives to save his poor soul. By then, he is scramming to the cafeteria.

Carlisle leans against the front desk and places an amiable smile. "Hello, Mr. Black, would you like to come to my office?"

Billy spits on the floor. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"Not at all. I understand a respectable man like you must have reasons for coming here, and I wish to make you comfortable."

"In a casket, you mean."

Carlisle forces a wider smile. "Mr. Black-"

"Where is the girl."

"I am afraid I do not know who you are referring to."

From the cafeteria, Brett jolts at the firing of a single shot and ducks under the table. He cradles his carton of milk.

Back in the lobby, Carlisle glances at the hole in the ceiling and reminds himself contact a repairman. "You are mistaken, Mr. Black. I believed the rainforests, ocean, and warm sun of Dominica would benefit my son's lungs better than the winter air of Forks. I cannot leave my work, so I sent his nurse, Sakura, to accompany him." From his lab pockets, Carlisle withdraws the receipts of two airplane tickets. "You may check with the school, if you wish."

Billy smiles dryly. "And all this time, I expected you to say Alaska. When have you gotten this creative with lies?"

He has not. Carlisle vouched for visiting relatives in Alaska, before Sakura laughed in his face, and said there is not enough masochism in the world for any seventeen year old son to _ever_ agree to that, let alone one who is dying and part of a multimillion dollar family.

* * *

Said multimillion dollars begins in the form of a mansion traditional architecture mixed with modern aesthetics, a combination of white marble and high windows. Sakura shuts the cab door and leans back to admire the engineering that allows walls to rise, glass to stretch, wood to gleam, all sharp cuts and clean angles that departs from Konoha's conglomeration of snakes and ovals.

Edward smirks and guides her inside. The only thing more beautiful than the interior is the people, in clothes too glamorous for Fork's semi-formal. Versace, Yves, Valentino. Alice is the first to turn around, with back and shoulders of lace and skirt of Byzantine leather. "Edward! Sakura-chan!"

"You guys are back," Emmett says, working his cufflinks, when he notices the girl removing her shoes. "Um, you don't have to do that."

"Oh yes, she does!" Alice pushes him away to take Sakura by the hand. "You are a disaster, Sakura-chan! Fairy godmother intervention, _now_."

"Actually, we came back because Dr. Cul-" Alice has her up the stairs before any further interjection.

"So, how did the research go?" Emmett asks Edward, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Wonderful. Got injected with a deadly disease, threw up a gallon of hemoglobin, and saw some beautiful landmarks, like the world's fastest Scanning Mobility Particle Sizer. Also, Rose, start covering your legs. That vampire sparkle is 780,000 skin cells undergoing instantaneous combustion per second. And like hair, it doesn't grow back."

While Rosalie is scandalized, Jasper does not look up from his newspaper. "Anything else?"

"Vampires aren't immortal. Our revitalization is dependent on encoding data, our own DNA if you will, which corrupts at 1,100 degrees Celsius. That's about the temperature of a candle fire."

"Are you saying we can get _cancer_?"

"Yes. Or die, if you roast in an oven for two hours." Impatient, Edward says, "My turn. Tell me Alice didn't call us back because she wanted to take Sakura to the spring dance."

There is an unanimous, "_Maybe_," from the family.

Edward shouts, "Are you mad! This disease is doing permanent brain damage by the minute, and your heads are on a _high school dance._ Has _anyone _even looked into venom at all, because _we _kind of can't do that part without Sakura knowing it _exists_!"

Emmett takes his hysterical brother aside and holds down his shoulder. "Look, dad has been working on that part with the Egyptians. We called you here because he has found some crucial information-"

"Good, then where-"

"He's with mom. Trouble with the Natives, and they're trying to prevent a war. Everyone's been working hard. Alice's making a hundred calls all day, Rose's been taking over the labs, and Jasper and I are on the road twenty-four seven. We know this is important to you, but everyone needs a break. _Especially _you and Sakura. Alice sees a nervous breakdown coming, and it ain't pretty."

Edward pauses. "Sakura has been stressed lately."

"Oh no, we're talking about you."

Meanwhile, upstairs, "Sexy red or elegant black?" Alice tests the weight of two dresses before she throws both. "What color do _you _want, Sakura-chan?"

Sakura, overwhelmed by the walk-in closet, rotates a full one-eighty before something catches her eyes. Well, there _is _a color she has been missing. Following Sakura's gaze, Alice gives an elfish smirk. "You bold enough to go _alien_?"

By the time Sakura steps down the stairs, she is four inches taller on golden strapped stilettos. Her backless tunic is a lamé of liquid copper that tails down to asymmetrical layers of chiffon, transparent and glowing of an orange richer than the sun. The fire of her hair and cosmetics make her eyes more piercing than the sharpest emeralds, and Edward goes from adjusting his tie to choking on it.

Three seconds of bedazzlement later, Sakura is stumbling down, holding onto the banister, because the last time she wore heels was... never, and oh gods this is more difficult than walking on water.

"Edward, explanation," Sakura says, latching onto his arm for balance.

"After forty-five days of nonstop research, I think I deserve a break from experimentation, and you deserve your night of childhood romance."

"What you mean-" Before she knows it, she is scooped up into his arms and carried to his awaiting Aston Martin V12. Sakura can _not_ complain, as she tests buttons and the radio booms to life.

"_-NOT JUST GONNA HAPPEN LIKE THAT, 'CAUSE I AIN'T NO HOLLABACK GIRL, I AIN'T NO HOLLABACK-_"

At inhuman speeds, Edward digs his hands into the radio and throws it out the window, wires and all. That done with, he feels the need to defend himself with, "That is not representative of me nor my culture."

Sakura nods him a _sure_, as he presents his CD compartment. "Here, you pick real music, and I drive." She goes through the album covers, intrigued, and accepts his deal.

The spring dance is of the few times Forks looks populated with activity. This still means plastic cups, smelly gymnasiums, and the cheapest DJ the budget can afford. But the dance is also the biggest socializing event for teenagers, who try hard to pull off a Cinderella outside the rigid academic context, and catch up on juicy gossip of who broke up with who.

Bella should not be here. She should be in Seattle, and she swears either Charlie or Billy tampered with her truck. Engine failure, _her ass_. She hates the crowds, she hates feeling awkward, and she hates the uncomfortable feeling of going with a guy younger than her, though she admits he is even cuter dressed up.

A Mercedes breaks her out of her angst. Jasper steps out, capping his fedora. Suspenders and grey pinstripes, and gentleman enough to kiss the hand of his gothic princess and see her out. The other couple is matching blue, bold and upfront, with Rosalie's cleavage and legs enough stop all boys. She flashes a smirk at Jessica, who crushes her drink.

"So those are the Cullens," Jacob whistles. He is about to escort his date inside when a second car purrs. Bella drops her jaw. Edward is here, and he is sexy. He escorts out the girl in the passenger seat, and Jacob drops his jaw. Sakura is here, and she is hot. Jacob and Bella exchange a look, before they mutually agree on confrontation.

"- eat and dance. It's also Girl's Choice."

"Girl Choice?"

"Yes, instead of the boy traditionally asking the girl to dance, it is the reverse and..." Edward beckons to himself, and Sakura's expression changes to realization. However, before she can say a word, there is a bitch-whack of a five pound mom-purse.

"You do _not_ take _vacations_ during midterms projects!" Bella whacks Edward again for the sake of drama.

"_You_!" Jacob points intensely at Sakura but fails to think of his next line.

"I...?"

"Who the flipping pancakes are you!"

"Isabella, what have I-!"

"It's _Bella,_ for crow's sake!"

Parking lot skirmish is scooted inside by the dance coordinator, whose paycheck is the only thing preventing him from downing five bottles of whiskey and streaking into the woods.

"No, I will not have volley rematch!" Sakura shouts at Jacob, tugging at her dress for emphasis. "I am here to da-... ance?" She raises an eyebrow at the gym.

High school dances, like college dances and nightclubs, have few people on the dance floor. Instead, people crowd the tables for punch flavored with snarky commentary. With the two Cullen couples taking on cha-cha and rumba respectively, both professional enough to take gold in Dancing with the Stars, even the minority who do dance retreat.

"Oh, don't worry, that's my just siblings showing off. It's freestyle. Though if you cannot dance, I can-"

"Let us dance!"

"What-" Before Bella knows it, she is being dragged to dance floor.

"-teach you." Edward finishes, just as Jacob yells, "Hey, Bella's mine!"

"Girl choose! I choose Bella!" is the shout back.

Jacob clenches his jaw and turns to Edward. "The hell, man, your date just stole my date."

Edward rubs his temples. He _wish _he could say she is his date, but at this point, he will settle with sulking by the punch table.

While Edward awkwardly bro-bond with the dateless Ben Cheney, Bella is on the brink of hyperventilation, because they are center stage, the Cullens are swinging left and right, and, "I can't dance!" She stumbles on two left feet.

Sakura waves the matter away. "I have no knowledge of American dance either, but Edward says no convention. How have you been, Bella?"

"Horrible! Don't think I am not mad at you too!" Bella remains a humiliated red, then notices the stares, and upgrades to crimson. Rosalie's belittling smirk does not help.

Sakura catches her discomfort just as the music changes to something more upbeat. With a grin, she leans in to whisper in Bella's ear. Edward is right, this is her night off, and she is having fun.

Edward returns with two cups. Without thinking, Jacob takes the extra drink, but drops the punch when the music switches and the crowd shouts. Not many people in Forks can pull off a butterfly kick three feet off the ground before twisting for an air flare, glimmers of orange whipping through.

Rosalie's anger at being outstaged translates into a nasty smirk, as she grabs her date and whips her dress back. Last time she is still a girl of New York, and Latin is not all she knows.

Alice giggles, nose against Jasper's, before she somersaults over his shoulders and pulls him into the new break-dancing competition. Jessica has enough of the stolen spotlight and pushes Mike in, and other girls follow suit by pushing their dates in as well.

As Edward cringes at the complete vandalization of his night of roses and waltz, Jacob refuses to stand in the sidelines anymore and yanks him by the tie.

"What-"

"They're going down." Jacob rolls up his sleeve, ignoring the protests of his newly acquired dance partner.

In the dance off, Rosalie's gancho-dip could only be beaten by Jasper's signature critical spin, which lost when Jacob knocks out the competition with a swing of a make-shift Edward baseball bat. Well, most of the competition. Bella screams in the air, while Sakura springs from her backdrop, flips up, and extends her arms just in time to catch the falling girl, dresses swaying and all.

While Bella is shaking on her knees, Sakura stretches her muscles, readying for some real moves. "See, Bella? You can dance."

As for the rest of the gymnasium, someone has spiked the punch, Tyler is suffocating from a clogged doughnut, Lauren is taking pictures for her alien documentation, and Ben believes in life again, pushing Eric away and jumping on a chair to take Angela's lips.


	14. Coincidentia Oppositorum

Sakura is surrounded by leather and music.

A high rise ceiling comes to view, with the sun from the windows. The rays are warm against her cheek, the space is open, and the music is beautiful. Sakura wants to close her eyes and continue this dream far, far away from reality.

She pulls the covers over her shoulders and rolls off the couch in a _thump_.

Damn.

However, even with her face flat against the floorboards, the music does not stop. So she is not dreaming after all. Still in last night's rumpled dress, Sakura ruffles her hair and shakes the sleep out of her head, before turning to the source of the music.

By the door, on a platform, is an instrument gleaming and grand, black with a set of ivory keys that go up and down in a complex pattern as Edward's hands pass through them.

Sakura cautiously approaches. For once, her knowledge fails her, both of the instrument and the composition.

Without a break in music, Edward looks up. The morning has made his hair glow, his eyes clear and rich. With a wink, he asks, "How do you like it?"

"It is beautiful," she says and takes the bench with him.

"Esme, my mother, inspired it," he says, before his hands stop, and the room goes quiet. With a smile, he adds, "And _you _inspired this one." Two heavy booms later, the entire living room enters a battlefield, screeching and chaotic, without a single rhythm or rhyme. A cat and mouse might as well been in a chase on top of the keys.

While Sakura's ears bleed off, Edward laughs, not caring where his fingers land. By the time he gives mercy and stops, he has a smug look. "I call this masterpiece, _The Internal Angst and Trauma of Edward Cullen Caused by Sakura Haruno_. What do you think?"

"Audience will definitely share this Edward's trauma."

Edward's grin melts into a smile, and his hands return to the former composition. "I am glad. Someone spiked the punch last night, and you have no tolerance. I will not grace you with the details of my pain trying to bring you back."

"I am sorry? Did I spike or punch you?"

"'Spiked the punch' means some fool poured alcohol into the drinks."

"So I did punch you."

"Yes. A lot of people, actually. Also, are you bisexual?"

"I am sorry? What is that?"

"Bisexual is you kissing Bella Swan in front of the entire school."

Edward wishes he had a camera on him to capture the look on Sakura's face.

"I do not remember that!"

"I am sure Lauren has a video of it in her documentary. Bella screamed something about how she is leaving this shithole for California."

"So you tell me I lost all chance with Bella, _AND _I forget best night of my life."

When Edward nods a _pretty much_, Sakura does her own improv version of _Internal Angst and Trauma_, complete with repeated slamming of forehead against the keys. Edward separates her away from the piano.

"There is still the good news." Edward extends a hand and takes her to the door.

Sakura limps against his arm, her feet blistered from last night's heels. "What may that be?"

"Bella was at the dance."

"Did we not just establish Bella is bad ending?"

Edward wraps a jacket around her. "Try again. _Bella_ was there. _Bella _was with us. I only took you to the dance because my siblings were sure _Bella_ did not plan to go."

Sakura snaps her head to Edward. "She was near you."

"Yes."

"You did not attack her."

"No, I did not," Edward said. "In fact, of the time, I only thought about her purse and when she would stop hitting me with it."

Sakura's mouth is gaping. "I do not understand. I did not give you powder, I did not prepare anything. Did anything differ from routine?"

"Not particularly. Unless you count the deadly disease you injected me with."

They stop to look at each other in a dramatic silence. _Nah_.

Sakura follows Edward into his Volvo and leans back into the seats. While he drives, her mind travels to the Bella case. The more she understands of vampire physiology, the more mysterious thirst and metabolism becomes.

Animal instincts exist for the promotion of survival. Curiosity to encourage discovery. Fear to avoid danger. Hunger and thirst to propel the organism to find and take nourishment. Contrary to Edward's belief, thirst is _good_. Instinct and desire can be tricked or mistaken, but at the end of the day, it is only trying to communicate what the body _needs_.

Vampires stand at the _epitome_ of efficiency. It can substantiate itself for _hundreds_ of years without a drop of blood. There is no reason for the vampiric body to be so strongly impulsed by blood. There is no reason the vampiric body has to be so _selective_ about blood. And sure as hell, it should not come and go on whim.

An organism as beautifully engineered the vampire does not feel thirst because the body needs physical nourishment, Sakura concludes. And that is when it hits her.

The connection between thirst and metabolism is a faulty assumption. Edward's body has not been trying to tell Edward to get _food_. It has been trying to tell him to get... to get... what? What does he need?

Sakura frowns and turns to the driver's seat.

Although typically a pretzel of angst, pain, and exasperation, Edward has no tension today. He sits reclined, the sunlight catching everything from the last pigment of his iris to the stray threads of his sweater. The corners of his mouth are deepened just enough for a smile, and there is the tap of a finger against the wheel in tune to the radio.

Catching her stare, Edward glances back and and says something. His lips move to every word, but there is an overall laughter.

"-Sakura?"

Sakura breaks out of a daze she did not know she was in. "What?"

His expression changes to amused. "I asked what you were thinking."

"Ah, nothing."Sakura feels her lips pull in a quirk. Nothing except a breakthrough.

Sakura assumes Edward is taking her to the hospital to resume their research. Carlisle has gathered important information for them, important enough to warrant a flight all the way back to Forks. Only, the car turns onto the highway, much to her confusion.

"Edward-"

"You remember when I said I wanted to give you a night of romance?" Edward says, eyes on the road. "Well, yesterday didn't turn out as I pictured." Starting with bro-bonding by the punch table, getting turned into some kid's personal baseball bat, and watching the girl you like make out with another girl.

So he guides Sakura into the woods and into a place where the trees would separate into a meadow. The snow has melted, and now bathing in the warm air lies swaying grass and wildflowers of all colors.

The sun makes the place glow in a halo, forcing Sakura to shield her eyes when she steps forth.

"Edward..."

"Yes?"

The intensity of the light settles, leaving Sakura with nothing but a confused furrow of her brow.

"Why did you bring me to my cabin?"

* * *

Edward could not believe what he is seeing. In his meadow, _his special meadow_ is some ugly shack, created from, get this, the trees that once kept the perfect circle of the meadow.

Sakura has no defense except that her cabin is _not _ugly, thank you. It is ugly-cute, especially when you tilt your head forty-five degrees. Edward tilts his head, and disagrees. No, it's just plain ugly.

Blowing some noise akin to a raspberry, Sakura yanks Edward away before he accidentally trips on a wire and gestures at him to _stay, stay boy_, while she enters her home.

Sakura is greeted by four logged walls, posts from a former bed, and bare desk. Even though this is not Edward's intentions, bringing her here is useful. There remains materials she can take with her, not to mention-

A fluffy ball comes assaulting, with several pecks to her head, then plops down and does a full body shake to ruffle his feathers.

"Sesu-chan!" She gives him a small pat and notices the letter strapped to his body.

Konoha.

Sakura rushes to untie the letter. She is about to read when she hears voices outside. Edward never mentioned he learned ventriloquism.

Out the window, Edward is with three strangers, two men and a woman. Even though they are meters away from the cabin, Sakura could tell something is wrong. After half a year of seeing no one except New World civilians, with their horrible postures and unbalanced stances, she is surprised to see careful crouches and a triangular formation. Far from the refined, strategic coordination of the shinobi, but nonetheless alarming.

"Now, what do we have here."

"Edward. Edward Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you." Edward extends a hand, of which the trio stare at. The woman, the one with hair wilder and brighter than the Uzumaki's, bares her teeth and laughs, but silences when one of the men steps up.

Sakura narrows her eyes as she watches him erect from animal to man and take Edward's hand. Without a noise, she steps out of her cabin and moves closer to Edward, examining the trio from different angles.

The strangers wear New World clothes, though unusually weathered and torn, and no shoes. Then, the eyes. She pauses. Kurenai explained to her three eye colors, and red is not one of them.

Smiling, the man releases Edward's hand and says, "Hello. I am Laurent. These are Victoria and James." He gestures to his companions, then takes a glance at Edward's attire, of a collared shirt and trousers, and looks amused. "Pardon if our appearances are not as... ah, nice. We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up. What about you? Are you alone?"

"No. I live here. With my family."

The three strangers exchange a look of disbelief and control their snickers. "Pardon? Did you say you live here with _family_?"

Their entertainment is interrupted when Sakura says, "Oh yes, they live in that direction."

All heads whip to the girl before them, who is giving an introductory wave. "Hello, you are vampires too, correct? Careful, you are standing in sunlight. That causes cancer."

James, having enough of the Dali surrealism, screws etiquette and proposes, "Okay, who's in favor of killing them and getting a move on?"

* * *

It is Edward's turn to question the state of Sakura's mental health, because _is she an idiot_? He is outnumbered by a pack of vampires whose good humor is the only thing preventing them from attacking him on the spot. And Sakura, knowing they are vampires, steps right in instead of staying hidden.

While the trio debates about who gets to fights him and who gets the human, Edward interjects and says that Sakura is _so _less human than he is. Sakura gets offended and disagrees, addressing the point that _she _can successfully reproduce with the Homo Sapiens species while _he _cannot. Therefore, she is more human.

"Have you successfully reproduced before?" Edward counters. "Do you have _proof_?"

"No-"

"Then your evidence is invalid."

They bicker some more about the definition of species and its relation to sexual reproduction, before the LSD is too much and James attacks.

There is motion, and there is more motion, before Sakura rolls in the grass after dodging Victoria. With a twist of her body, Sakura evades her pounce,and leaps back in consecutive forms of defensive kata, away from the whips of red hair, nails, and teeth.

Vampires are fast, their killer intent fiercer than many professional mercenary shinobi. A half year hiatus and slumber has weakened Sakura's reflexes and muscles, but the majority of her shinobi training switch on at second's notice. She breathes steadily, the adrenaline rushing through her veins as she controls the flow of her chakra to her eyes, nerves, and feet. At the exact moment, she flips around and seizes Victoria's arm. Nevermind the consequences now; if she cannot keep up, she and Edward are both dead.

"_SHANNARO_!" She slams the enemy to the ground, the impact heavy enough to form a crater in the earth.

She draws attention from the rest of the combatants. James has his eyes wide, before he snarls and charges, only to be tackled by Edward. Laurent finds an opening, and locks grip with Edward's elbow.

"Edward, head towards cabin!" Sakura shouts.

"Wh-"

Sakura pulls out a kunai and barely slips through another attack. There are gouges in the dirt from where Victora's nails dug in, and Sakura understands with their strength, speed, and numbers, neither she nor Edward will last long. "Just do it!"

After evading both vampires on his neck, Edward makes a break for the cabin, just as Sakura cuts the wire in the ground.

Instantly, there is a shower of kunai and shuriken. It is not the surprise or distraction Sakura needs. It is the papers attached to them that makes Sakura tell Edward, "Run!" just before there is a deafening explosion. The ground shakes, and blistering heat, wind, and debris scatter in all directions.

Victoria screeches at the sight of her companions in the explosion and dives for Sakura, only to meet her fist.

Meanwhile, Edward emerges from the smoke. They flee.

"You have some explaining to do!" he shouts, his ears ringing, while he watches the kunoichi keep inhuman pace with him, leaping through the trees with ease.

"Like you do not! I thought vampires are your clan! Why they want to kill us?"

"I don't know what the hell a clan is, but they are _not friends_!"

Edward cannot believe this. It just seems the universe is out to thwart every last scene of romance he tries to create, but enemy vampires now are just a ridiculously contrived plot gimmick.

At the Volvo, he swings open the door and catches the blood on Sakura's arm. "You're not bitten are you?!" he demands, unable to keep the frenzy out of his voice.

"No, no, I scrape myself in earth. Will you hurry, drive?" she urges, sensing approaching enemy presences.

Edward does not need to be told twice. After a slam of the door, he is twisting the keys into the ignition and slamming on the gas. Only, the roof of the car has a slamming indent, and rubber burns in place on the road. A fist punches through the window on Sakura's side, while a scorched, but very exuberant and maniacal James lands on the hood.

It is days like this that Sakura is reminded why she is desperate for a normal, boring romance.

"Please tell me you have plan," Sakura whispers, seizing the claw trying to maim her.

"Uh..." Edward rummages through his pockets and finds his cellphone.

Several miles away, Rosalie ignores the vibration of her phone, in favor of applying more floral soap and rose petals to her bathtub. The sun damaging _her_ skin? Blasphemy.

"Yeah, I got nothing," Edward says when his call went to voicemail.

Sakura sighs, ready to tap into her last chakra reserves, when suddenly, there is a roar of machinery in the distance. Sakura blinks at the foreign contraption and thinks back to her genjutsu lessons. It is a motorcycle?

"What the-?"

Before anyone would react, there is the skidding of wheels against the pavement and a gunshot.

The vampire on the hood is sent careening back, growling at his broken nose, while the motorcycle doubles back with a second gunshot. There is a screech from the roof, just as as the driver climbs off his bike and gives his rifle a shake.

He removes his helmet.

"Well, hello mystery girl," Jacob says with a cocky grin. "Or should I say, Sakura Haruno."


	15. A Dynamic Rescue from Without

In the face of unexpected arrivals, Sakura decides her best plan of action is to fight first, question later.

Jacob aims his gun, while she kicks the door to the Volvo and slams the vampire behind it in the ribs. Edward regains enough control of the car to swerve off Laurent, and the three recollect on one side.

"Looks like those legends are true after all," Jacob mumbles when James rebounds from his third shot to the face. And to think he thought his father was crazy all those years.

"What are you doing," Edward growls at Jacob.

"Saving your cold ass, you're welcome," Jacob snaps back.

"You have no idea what you're getting into. Leave, you're a liability."

Jacob wishes he could. He is a high school student with already way too much audacity than is healthy for his age, and he is really not interested in becoming the next superhero sidekick. But given the situation and lives at stake, he refuses to jump ship either.

Meanwhile, James cranks his neck, the grin splitting his face in two. His companions rise from the ground, ruined but angry for blood.

"What is this? One dandy vampire, one little girl, and one Navajo?" James laughs. "Well, aren't my kills diverse today."

"I apologize, but that is incorrect. Navajo reside south, whereas people of Leah-san belong to Quileute clan," Sakura points out, raising a finger.

"As much as I am bothered by political incorrectness, Sakura," Jacob says, "I am a little more insulted by the fact that he wants to kill us."

"Really?" Sakura asks, raising her brows. "In my country, declaration of death by opponent is honor, whereas mistaken identity is grave insult."

To answer Jacob's gaping expression, Edward sighs. "She's from some Japanese ninja place. Just roll with it."

"That... actually explains so much."

When the enemies attack, Jacob fires his gun, while Edward side-shifts for an offensive maneuver and Sakura somersaults in with a kick. The road shatters in demolition, leaving Jacob with his mouth ajar when the smoke clears.

"Don't just stare," Edward says, flashing to his side. "Get on your bike, and get Sakura out of here. I'll handle them."

Jacob still has his mouth ajar when he stares at Edward. "No offense, man, but I think crazy chick can handle this better than you can," he says, just as Sakura swings one vampire into another, sending both into the toppling trees.

Nonetheless, Jacob rushes to the motorcycle, while Edward tries his cellphone again. It is dangerous to lead the fight into town; getting Rosalie or Jasper to deal with the problem is his best hope.

From her bag, Sakura strips another explosive tag and flips open a lighter.

"Uh-oh."

Before Jacob knows it, Edward has pushed him down, just as the highway gets blown into oblivion and crackles of fire burn along the trees.

"That hurts, bitch." James hisses, rising from the ashes. His eyes roll in their sockets, before he locks his jaw in place.

Eye twitching, Sakura picks up the Volvo. And throws it at his face.

Jacob does not know which is louder: the ton of crashing metal, or Edward's cry of devastation.

With heavy breaths, Sakura steadies herself on her feet. Her vision doubles while the vampires rise again, fangs as wild as ever.

Damn. If only Sasuke is here to provide a supplementary katon. Even a rasengan looks welcoming. But the amount of raw chakra needed for elemental manipulation of any kind is near impossible outside the shinobi lands, let alone for someone without a strong blood heritage.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Cover me."

Sakura calms her state of mind. There is no choice. She will have to take a risk with genjutsu.

Like the practice of any music, language, or dance, fluency in combat requires early training, when the mind can be molded and actions can be ingrained as instinct. As such, the little boys who kicked the ball, rolled in the mud, and picked fights on the playground also grew up to have quicker reaction speed, sharper hand-eye coordination, and ultimately better ninjutsu and taijutsu abilities than the little girls who stayed indoors to do homework.

On the flip side, if you were one of the little girls who unwittingly trained her logic instead of her body at a tender age, especially through a mix of puzzles, trivia, and quantum physics, then you are probably better equipped to make a telepathic connection into an active mind and mechanically link together neurons through pure thought. In fact, you would be of the one percent of the shinobi population.

Children of Konoha are forbidden from genjutsu practices outside dispersion not because of any ethical or religious law. It is because genjutsu requires an intense mental algorithm on par with a 1998 Hitachi super-computer specialized for space missions. Chakra accelerates neurons until the brain is on crack and you are undergoing fifty thousand spontaneous speed chess matches against the neurological network that is your enemy's mind, until you have tweaked and rewired every sensory pulse to your desired outcome.

As such, any attempt by children, who usually have the quantitative skills of a brick and the attention span of a goldfish, to cast a genjutsu has a frighteningly high risk of leaving the user in a permanent vegetative state. There can be no emotion, or the genjutsu backfires. There can be no mistake, or the genjutsu backfires. Your opponent cannot be Uchiha Itachi, or the genjutsu _epically _backfires.

But past those drawbacks, genjutsu relies more on precision of chakra than quantity, and once successful, any organism reliant on the prosencephalon region of their brain is pretty much screwed.

A smile creeps up Sakura's face. _"Magen: Jubaku Satsu._"

"The hell is that, girly? You spewing Philippines, or what?" James laughs, before he feels a tug at his wrist. The tree branches have come alive, wrapping around his body like a cocoon. Sneering, he yanks his arm, only to find the branches pull like elastic and snap him back in place. Before long, the amusement falls from his face.

"What witchcraft are you pulling!"

Sakura is indifferent to his struggles. "I test your battle style. Based off analysis, you depend on olfactory receptors which links to rhinencephalon part of brain. I control this now, along with rest of cerebrum responsible for movement and primary sensory faculties."

"The fuck, bitch?"

Sakura places both hands at her hips. "Fortunately, I can also tap into hippocampus, so today, we learn." From nowhere, giant placards appear in Houdini magic, as bespectacled Sakura points to a map with a meter stick. "This is Republic of _Philippines_, population 97 million. This is Austronesian ethnic group, _Filipino_. This is _Tagalog_, one of possible languages spoken by Filipinos who reside in Philippines. You do not speak land, you speak language. Now, this is _Navajo_..."

Outside the demonic illusion, James clutches his skull so hard his nails tear into his scalp, screeching before collapsing to his knees and jerking in cardiac arrest. At the same time, Edward hears Sakura drop beside him.

"Sakura!"

Without thinking, he reaches for the fallen kunoichi, missing the sudden whip of red hair. His eyes widen when a piece of metal flies an inch from his face, a bullet that drills into Victoria's open jaw with an accompanying _boom_ of the rifle. By the second jump of a shadow, some instinct switches on, and Edward narrows his eyes dangerously, his palm seizing Laurent's neck mid-air.

From the motorcycle, Jacob squints through the blurs of combat, gun ready for another clear shot when he catches a flare of orange. Cursing, he skids across gravel, saving Sakura from a ten meter slam into the broken road.

"Hey, careful with the girl here!"

Edward is too busy dealing with the combined force of two enemy vampires to return with any snarky commentary. He tries to restrain both Laurent and Victoria from charging any closer to the motorcycle, but his skill lies more in evasion than strength. After he takes a particularly loud snap to his shoulder, Victoria breaks free and lunges for Jacob with baring teeth.

"Oh shit."

Against a speed near undetectable to the human eye, Jacob has several options when the kick of his foot is only thing keeping a hysterical madwoman from biting his neck off. Scream. Cry. Or maybe enter into a premature offset of puberty, in which on top of sudden body hair, deep growls, and body odor will also give him reality-defying wolf superpowers.

He is crossing his fingers for a wolverine transformation when a hand shoots out and grabs Victoria by the forehead.

Sakura snaps open her eyes, masked by a mechanical expression when her fingers dig deeper and glow an alien blue. A long, anguished scream later, Jacob is more terrified of the girl in his arms than the vampire trying to claw him apart. Sakura tosses Victoria's limp body off them.

She helps Jacob up and asks, "Are you unharmed?"

When he numbly nods, she grins, retrieving his rifle with a kick. Catching the weapon, she presents it to him, then pushes him out to the front lines. "Good, your turn."

Because Sakura is _out _of chakra, down to every last drop she has saved since the last war, and she obstinately refuses to commit anything as stupid as a heroic sacrifice without further proof that these New World boys still cannot win on a revised two-against-one playing field.

Leaning against the motorcycle, Sakura pops a military ration pill in her mouth and watches the battle, fairly confident in victory, only to be alerted by a call of "Wait!"

The vampire named Laurent is in a steady crouch, arms extended. "Wait, I want to talk."

Jacob stares in skepticism while Edward stops midway in his attack. The pause is just enough for Laurent to slip through and run.

"Idiots, he go in direction of town!" Sakura shouts when her kunai fails to nail the escaping vampire.

However, before Edward could react, there is already the sky-high kick of an action-packed, "_DYNAMIC ENTRY_!"

Laurent looks back to see Edward face-planted into the ground, limbs twitching in the air as some green beast strikes highly photogenic poses on top. A blitz of lightning later, said beast blocks his path and reveals to be a young man in ripped jeans and green jersey.

Eyes concentrated, the newcomer beckons a hand in challenge.

Sakura blinks back her shock, but there is no mistaking it. She knows no one with more impeccable combat form, who can single-highhandedly fend off attacks of vampiric power and still spare a glance and break out a sparkling smile.

It ends with consecutive drumming that speeds up to over a hundred beats a second, before Laurent falls alongside James and Victoria in a ditch, left for slow regeneration. Lee brushes his hands, looking down at his opponent with pity.

"_I mean no offense, Enemy-san, but there is much room for growth in your skills in taijutsu__._"

Meanwhile, just as Edward lifts his head out of the gravel, there is a cry of "DIE, ZOMBIE SCUM!" and he is rammed back down by a two-seater bike furiously petaled by some hoodied middle schooler.

* * *

"Sakura, you're okay!"

"Seth-!" Sakura is nailed in the side as the boy wraps his body around her waist, sobbing.

"I overheard pops say the Cold Ones ate you! Not cool!"

Edward raises a finger. "I am offend-"

"Eep! Cold One!" Seth yells, quickly stomping his hand back down.

Jacob lowers his rifle. "Seth, what- I told you to wait back at the reserve! Leah would gut alive if she learned you followed me to Forks!"

"Jake, I _know _you didn't get permission to come down here. And you're stupid if you think we'd let you go back into zombie territory alone," Seth says, taking off his helmet.

"I am not a zombie!" Edward cries, popping his head out of the gravel.

"Uh, yes you are!" Seth says with another stomp, then pinches his nose. "You even smell like great-granny's rotten fish perfume!"

While Edward goes through yet another painstaking mission to clear his name, Sakura turns around and gets over enough disbelief for a proper union with her Konoha friend, beginning with open arms and repetitive exclamations of,

"_Sakura-san__!_"

"_Lee-san__!_"

"_Sakura-san__!_"

"_Lee-san__!_"

Followed by much hugs and chatting. After half a year away from her homeland, Sakura once more smells the sunny green of Konoha and hears words of her native tongue, her heart _rejoicing _with nostalgia. "_Oh my god, you, I can't believe you're here__!"_ Sakura says. _"__And- wow, look at you__!"_

"_And you, is that a dress? That is so beautiful, you look wonderful in it__!_"

Sakura glances down at the tattered orange chiffon and laughs with a blush. "_Aw, thanks. Too bad it got ruined__._"

"_At least you are unhurt, Sakura-san? Hokage-sama sent me when there was no response to our last letter. She was starting to fear for the worst__."_

"_Oh, of course! I'm so sorry! I've been so busy circling this entire damn planet lately that I've neglected to touch base__._" Sakura rushes to withdraw the letter from her jacket pocket. As she unfolds the parchment, the sky darkens. She glances up to see the rolling of clouds. A droplet falls on the letter.

Seth peeks into the ditch with the defeated vampires, then looks at the destroyed highway, the crushed Volvo, and the smoke spiraling from the wildfire that rise and fall between every sheet of the typical Forks rain. There is a low growl in the background, and Edward is vaguely aware that a thunderstorm is forecasted for today; in the morning, Alice gleefully announced for a family ball game. He figures that after the body cleanup, the rest of the damages can explained by a highly improbable lightning bolt.

Unlike half a year ago, when he was paranoid over even a single sparkle being seen, he now acknowledges that in today's age of increasing skepticism and photoshop, even if he spewed out the whole truth with a full-blown blog and documentary, the only people who would listen are teenage girls with overactive imaginations browsing the internet on a bored Sunday morning. And they'd probably call bullshit.

The only real problem is that now another generation of Quiluete people are coming into acceptance of supernatural forces. Jacob and Seth exchange a look by the crater, before they turn to Edward. "Hey, Mr. Good Vampire, what are we going to do about this?" Seth asks with a worried crease. "There are going to be cars coming down this interstate."

But strangely, Edward is okay with the Quiluetes knowing.

Living in the isolation of Forks has given him a false sense of security, which shattered the minute he stepped into metropolis, where he and Sakura had to get creative combining their abilities to bypass a new world of fingerprint scanning, thermal imagining, GPS and satellite, to walk through the eyes of ten thousand camera lenses that can capture and upload him with a click. And no matter how fast he runs, he cannot outrun electricity, let alone light.

At the pace technology develops, exposure is inevitable. The human population outnumbers them a million to one, and with vampires still functioning on a societal order older than the feudal system, living a lifestyle that outdates agriculture, Edward can confidently say at that yeah, his species is doomed. When things go wrong, humans may not live forever but this recent battle has shown vampires to be just as mortal, if not as pitiful.

Edward is facing his own time bomb now, and he only has decades left to catch up in the race for knowledge and find the right allies. Some teenagers without prejudice in their hearts might be a good start.

"Heave!"

Seth goes blue in the face trying to lug a comatose James out of the ditch when the load lifts. He looks up to see Edward helping on the other side. "I'll take care of this. You think you can deal with the car?"

Seth nods and scrambles to join Jacob by the Volvo. Jacob only examines the crushed contraption with a flabbergasted expression, sometimes motioning his arm and mumbling words of "The car... she _threw _the car... with _one_ hand..." before crossing his arms and looking pensive.

Seth tilts his head. "Hey, did someone get in a car accident during the fight?"

Jacob blinks. "Seth, you're brilliant! Here, help me break off one of these tires."

"What-?"

Jacob has never been more thankful for his car savvy when he pries one of dangling tires off the wheel base. "We're going to make it look like the car just swerved off the road and got in an accident."

However, before Jacob can reach his motorcycle and before Edward can start disposing any of the bodies, a set of headlights blare through the rain and tires speed down the intersection.

Edward drops the body he is holding and whips to Sakura. "Hey, Sakura, hurry we've got-"

He stops at the sight of Sakura standing still in the downpour. Her eyes are expressionless when a piece of parchment falls out of her hands, beaten down by the rain, the ink bleeding to every corner.


	16. Konoha's Summoning

"_Sakura-san, we must-_"

"Sakura, are you okay? Sakura!" Edward slaps Lee away. "What's going on? What did you do to her!"

Sakura's hand stops trembling. With a smile, she looks up. "Everything is fine, Edward. This is good friend, Lee, from my homeland. I-"

Water splash across the road, as a Mercedes spins and halts before the wreck in the road. Rosalie steps out with a slam of the door. From shotgun, Jaspers exits, as do Carlisle and Esme from the back.

"Alright, Edward, this better be good," Rosalie snarls, clicking shut her cell phone. But before she can say more, she catches an alarming smell. Amidst the flood of pine, ashes, and tar is a bronze warmth. The coppery scent of-

Jasper whips past Rosalie, teeth sharp as he blitzes towards the source of blood. In horror, Edward runs to shield Sakura, only to find two Quiluete boys in front of him, and one martial artist before them.

"_Lee-san, don't_!"

Lee reacts accordingly. After one thrust of the arm, Jasper is sent skidding through pavement back to Carlisle and Esme, who latch onto him. Jasper folds his arms and slip through, but Lee stays still in his form, waiting. Two strikes later, he has Jasper in a vise-grip.

"_Wow, very strong_!" Lee praises.

Edward's relief is cut short by a silent punch to his stomach, followed by waves of nausea and terror. In his desperation, Jasper is blasting his powers. The air has gotten so dense that the Quiluete boys tense, and even his family members recoil in unease.

The only two people who do not react are Sakura and her accomplice, without a single falter in his smile. Their behavior makes the Cullens more wary. From her crouch, Rosalie studies Lee. Esme worriedly glances at the befallen vampires in the ditch. Carlisle places a hand on his wife before looking Edward in the eye.

_Get out_, Carlisle mentally commands. _Save your brother and get out_.

Edward exchanges a look with Sakura, who is also aware of how this situation can skydive towards a disaster. Unraveling from her stance, she rips the tethered ends of her dress and uses the strips to restrict the circulation of her blood.

Edward watches, recalling their first week of research. Vampires do not react to blood. They react to _bleeding_, and once within the radius of exposure, even a scrape can drive them insane.

By the time Sakura finishes bandaging her wound, Jasper has stopped thrashing. Lee releases his grip.

Seth laughs nervously. "So I lost track. Are these guys good vampires, bad vampires, zombies, ninjas, aliens, werewolves, or humans?"

* * *

A whistle. "This place is sweet!" Seth exclaims, tilting his head back until his nose points to the ceiling. He turns to Jacob in excitement. "You think there are any coffins here?"

"Um, no. That's creepy as shit," Emmett says, closing the door to the Cullen estate. "The Egyptians keep a few sarcophagi as memento though."

"Dude! You guys have a kitchen!" With wide eyes, Seth trails along the edge of the marble counter before freezing at a platter of sandwiches. "These aren't like, uh, made of people right?"

"No, it's ham." Upon seeing Seth's confusion, Emmett runs a hand over his hair. "Our mom has her hobbies."

Seth pulls up a weighted leg of his jeans, sopped by rainwater. "You guys got a bathroom too?"

While Seth rushes upstairs, Rosalie pulls Edward into the mansion library and bolts the door. Gone is her air of sophistication and dismissive glances, as she boxes in her brother with the ferocity of a tiger. Her golden curls are matted, clinging onto the sides of her cheeks and neck, her chest rising with every inhale.

"Edward, what is wrong with you."

Edward inches away from her breath. "Rose, look, I was-"

"What is wrong with you!" Rosalie slams him harder into the bookshelves. She keeps her voice inaudible to human ears. "You were standing less than a feet from fresh blood, and you looked to be enjoying a nice chat about the weather. What did that girl do to you! Why did you not react!"

Edward freezes.

"When was the last time you fed?" Rosalie demands.

"I..."

Rosalie's expression changes. She throws him aside in favor of chasing down Carlisle. Edward is not just immune to Bella. He is immune to _blood._

From the hallways, Alice slides aside to let Rosalie pass, then skitters up one more flight of stairs. She swings open the door to find Jasper sitting against the windowsill, as grave as the outside rain.

"Oh Jasper," she gasps at the bruises up his sleeve and pulls him into a hug. "I'm so sorry. Carlisle had me busy with the Egyptians and money wires all night. And then all the surveillance on Volturi... I should have foreseen this instead."

"Alice," Jasper says dryly. "We got involved with the wrong type of people."

"Were they that bad?" Alice glances at the three bodies chained against the electronics equipment and server computers.

"Not them. The ninja."

Alice stares at him in shock while he continues, "Edward cannot decipher their minds. I cannot control their emotions. You cannot predict their movements. They are fickle, fast, and unmoved, with powers we have yet to comprehend. We know nothing while they continue to observe and understand us, unraveling our weaknesses. They are dangerous," he whispers, cupping her face, "and we are in danger."

Two floors down, Emmett settles on the couch, with a packet of paperwork slammed on the coffee table. "Now that the kid's gone, let's get to business."

From across, Jacob gives a skeptical look as Emmett licks his thumb and flips to page seven of a staggering three hundred sixty page legal contract.

Emmett catches his look. "Yes, I look like your typical douchebag jock. I'm also a ninety years old war veteran who gave students the right to vote. I'm married to the most beautiful woman on the planet, and am living a wonderingly enriching life. I assume you like your life too, so if we can get through this treaty like civilized people, we might just tag team against virtual 3D zombies together in 2025."

Jacob blinks.

Jacob considers himself a rather open-minded individual. If some random girl shows up with incredible athletic skills, he is willing to get to know her better and make a connection. If some random dude washes up on the beach looking for said random girl, he is willing be a good samaritan and help them get together. And if some creeps are trying to kill people, he feels obliged to step in.

All that said, he is still a sixteen year old teenager who just wants to pass school, hang out, and chase girls. The highlight of his life has been the girl of his dreams asking him out to her dance, which may or may not be due to the combined coercion of their fathers, but it's still hella awesome. Now, not only has Sakura bulldozed all that away by one, stealing his date; two, kissing his date; and three, sending his date crying all the way to California, where he still has to retrieve her before Charlie shoots his balls off, he is now involved in some three-way vampire-ninja-werewolf conspiracy circle in which the existence of the participant parties were revealed to him only one hour prior.

And so, as Emmett walks him through page by page, Jacob just sits in silent stupor and wonders if this is what his ancestors felt when the first white people came.

Across the estate, in the far opposite wing, Sakura is interrupted by the slam of a door.

Rosalie enters, but Sakura ignores the additional presence and continues her conversation with Carlisle.

"My government has summoned my return. I wish to express my gratitude for your family's assistance in my mission, Dr. Cullen, and say I do intend to honor our agreement." She offers a composition notebook with a multitude of tabs. "Because primary object of research is your son, we have also information regarding his thirst."

Rosalie approaches in cautious steps. "Did you cure him?"

Sakura closes her eyes. "I did not cure him. He cured himself. I admit, I believe I only found answer this morning. My hypothesis is written on last ten pages. Whether it has merit, you shall see as soon as three vampires upstairs awake. The one named Laurent is control. The other two, I have applied two separate techniques meant to alter behavior, one soft, one hard. When they awake, see what happens when exposed to fresh blood. I have confidence Edward is capable of piecing together whatever is left.

"The vampire mind retains memory, learns, adapts, just like human brain. While this allows for meaningful life, it is also vulnerable to change and damage. You are immortal, but not ageless, not timeless, and not deathless."

Sakura gives a final bow. "I hope information will be of assistance. Thank you, and farewell."

Backpacks in hand, Lee exchanges one last amiable smile with the natives and exits after her.

An overwhelmed Jacob is massaging his temple at the bombardment of legal terms when Seth returns from his bathroom trip. "Hey, Sakura, you're leaving?" Seth calls.

From the door, Sakura gives a polite smile, before her eyes fall on the stairs, where Edward is making his descent.

"Wait, where are we going now?" Edward stares at the mountain of belongings strapped to her back.

"I am going home, Edward," Sakura says.

There is a bubbling unease in his stomach that quickly turns to panic the longer he looks at her. He leaps down. "What, home as in... _home_? What about our research? What about your patient?"

Sakura remains unreadable. "This has been excellent collaboration, Edward, but is over now. I wish you success."

Edward follows her gaze to Carlisle, who stands at the banisters, a series of notebooks and data materials tucked in his arm. His father nods approvingly to him but Edward can only return with a blank expression.

Edward can only stand still with a gear clogged in his brain because just a few days ago, just an _hour _ago, he and Sakura were at the height of their work, finally getting to know each other, and now she is... leaving?

_What?_

Too fast. Everything is happening too fast.

But maybe that is just another difference between their two worlds, because while vampires sleep away in stagnancy, the shinobi wait for nothing. It takes less than a blink for a peaceful stroll to turn into a lethal confrontation, the grass beneath your feet to turn into meters of blood and snow. You can share a bowl of ramen with a friend one day and visit his grave the next.

Change happens in seconds, not decades, and the world will not wait for you to catch up. So while Edward is still questioning the _what_, _why_, and _how_, the door has closed and the street gone empty.

Edward never would have guessed that the clock stopped ticking at 4:33, March 13th, 2005, when the present turned into past, and he returns to standing in his same old house in Forks, Washington, the first friend he has made in decades vaporized into nothing but memory.

* * *

No.

Nononono.

Sakura did not leave. She did not just _disappear_. He has to find her.

"Edward! Will you stop pacing!" Rosalie grabs his wrist before he can shuffle his hair into baldness.

"I have to get Sakura back!" Edward shakes his sister's shoulders.

In response, Rosalie treats him with another rare dosage of her eternal love and compassion. In the form of an iron fist flat against his cheek. Before tossing his sorry ass into his seat in the family conference room just as the second Cullen Meeting of the year commence.

It should be noted that the typical Cullen Meeting occurs once every four years and involves three days of lengthy discussion of stock market prices, notable pop culture phenomenon, and trends in yearly moose migration. Needless to say, this year has indeed been an abnormality as Alice debriefs everyone on the latest developments, including but not limited to:

Edward's general spasms.

The three nomad vampires locked up in the computer clusters.

The two Quiluete boys sitting one floor below.

The bubbling tensions with their tribe.

The increased suspicions among the Volturi after the Cullens' recent interest in international travel.

The confidential, top secret research on the mechanism behind vampire thirst and the proper way to deactivate it.

Parts of said confidential, top secret research that are in the hands a ninja girl and her associate, which may not only jeopardize their identity but also those of the entire vampire population.

Oh, and their many, many unexplained absences in Forks High School, because that shit is still happening in the background.

After thirty minutes of headache due to everyone talking at once at superhuman speeds, Carlisle slams the gavel. Everyone looks up. He stops pinching the bridge of his nose and calmly addresses each family member.

"Emmett, I understand there has been breaches in our contract with the Quiluetes. See that the two young men downstairs make a safe trip home, and mend our relations with their tribe. Hopefully, the boys can testify to their own unharm and Sakura's safe departure.

"Alice, get your gloves. The annual grand gala at the Imperial Palace is coming up, and Aro has been curious of you for some time now. I believe it is time you made your introduction. Find out what they know of us and their immediate plans.

"Jasper, bring the three travelers to our underground facility. If they wake, see if you can extract any information regarding their identity and motivations. If they refuse to be compliant, you know what to do."

"Esme, dear, see what you can do to keep our existing cover in town. Make sure the road incidence has no trace back to us. Also, make connections with the Denali coven in case Emmett's negotiations fail and things go sour.

"Rose, you will assist me in reviewing the files Sakura has provided and begin our own testing. Her claims are not to be taken lightly."

"Edward, you... why don't you take it easy."

On order, everyone dispatches.

Eyes front, Rosalie walks alongside Carlisle down the hall. "What about the girl," she whispers lowly. "She cannot be trusted with our secrets. Should a leak trace back to us, the Volturi-"

Carlisle closes his eyes. "I know."

"Then let me dispose of her, let me-"

"How?" asks a voice behind her.

Rosalie stops.

"You heard Jasper at the meeting. They are _not _a force to oppose."

"No one said I had to play fair."

"As impressive as your assassination record is, Rose," Edward says, "I don't think it's a good idea to sneak up on _ninjas_. They are, what, the definition of sneak?"

"Are you worried for me, Edward," Rosalie says sweetly. "Or your little girlfriend?"

"You," Edward deadpans. "After working alongside Sakura, I got to know a few things about her. Like how she can detect presences. Or scale walls. Or do crazy tree acrobatics. Or teleport. Or throw cars. Or faint a person by looking at him. Or do this alien glowy thing with her hands. Those three vampires we got locked up there? Yeah, the ninjas did them in. And even if you do kill them, then what? Sakura is working for people, Rose, for an organization or secret government. Do you really want to upset them and draw more attention?"

While Rosalie silently seethes, Edward turns to Carlisle with his plea. "Let me find her."

Carlisle is heavy with fatigue. "Even if you do, then what? Sakura has no incentive to stay. Under different circumstances, we may have been able to persuade her to leave behind our data, but it is clear we are in no position to make demands. All we can do now is hope our secret does not spread, and take advantage of her findings to solve our own issues."

"But-"

"Please, Edward," Carlisle interrupts. "For your- no, for _everyone's_ safety, let her go. We have enough of a mess as it is."

* * *

Esme is searching for an umbrella to carry into town when she catches movement through the crack of the door to Carlisle's study.

Edward straightens as Esme closes the door behind her.

"Mom."

"I want to say I'm sorry," Esme whispers. "I know this has been difficult for you. But girls like Sakura, their way of life is just fundamentally different from ours, and I hope you understand why Carlisle made the decisions that he did."

Edward untenses. "No, I- It's just..." He sighs. "Do you think I lost perspective, mom?"

Esme is perplexed by his question. "What do you mean, Edward?"

"I mean, Alice has told me thirteen times that Sakura's patient will die. Warning Sakura would have exposed our powers, but... was it right to have just ignored it?" Edward kneads his fist against his forehead. "For God's sake, I pulled her away from her job for a high school _dance_. And then again for what? Some stupid meadow that nearly got us killed. What was I thinking, I didn't even rush her, I-"

Esme cradles him in her arms, with hushes and sways. "You shouldn't think like that. It was a lost cause to begin with, and one night would not have made a difference. But at least you both had a chance to be happy together."

It is the same justification repeatedly Edward gives himself, but the more he thinks about it the more it sounds like an excuse. The churn of his stomach tells him that he has made a tremendous mistake, but he fears acknowledging his mistake would only open unpleasant doors and deepen his morality crisis.

He groans.

Of the entire family, Edward has always struck Esme as the most pensive. He would sink into weeks of introspection and resurface a little more troubled, a little more dissatisfied, and a lot more lost. It is a habit that allows many of his poetry and music to blossom, but makes made communication with others difficult. So while the rest of the family was alarmed by his sudden bond with an outsider, Esme was just happy to learn that after all these years, he finally found love. She can understand his devastation of then losing it.

"It's okay, Edward. Just remember, your first love is not necessarily your true love." She kisses his forehead. Before she leaves, she has one last look at Edward and cannot help but think how much he has changed.

Meanwhile, Edward is left with a questioning eyebrow because what the hell does _true love_ have to do with _anything_ they were discussing?

Edward has changed, just not in the way Esme believes. Edward has changed in that his life has completely shifted out of the romance genre and into whatever genre that includes hidden conspiracies, scientific discovery, human development, social commentary, and philosophical thoughts on individual responsibility and action.

Being in this genre also means that as soon as he hears Esme's thoughts dwindle away into the distance, he goes back to picking Carlisle's office drawer, where he pulls out the stack of medical files by the Egyptian coven. He stuffs the files inside the backpack that he has kept hidden under the desk, already filled with various other equipment and research materials.

A leap later and he stands on the roof, overlooking a mossy wonderland of thin trees and endless fog. There are 3,735 square kilometers of this forest alone of which a person can be, not including the woods, rivers, and mountains in the other cardinal directions.

Thankfully, if there is one art Edward has mastered, it is the art of stalking.

On his GPS locator blinks a red dot, his target less than fifteen miles away.

* * *

Leaning against the rugged rocks of James Island is an odd couple, starting with a redhead in battered hiker gear and a martial artist in jeans too baggy. The salty wind blows across the strands of Sakura's hair, as she stares into the falling sun in contemplation.

Lee smiles. "_So this is the New World._"

On exhale, Sakura closes her eyes, hands shuffled deeply into the comfort of her pockets. No, she thinks, this is not even the surface.

Before she could say anything, the whirl of chopper blades drowns out all sound.

* * *

Leah looks up from her textbook and spies some coppery haired boy outside her window. By the time she reaches the door, he has already darted off with her canoe.

"The fuck!"

"Hi,sorryneedtoborrow,thanks!" Edward yells.

* * *

"Hello, sir and madam. May I have identification, please."

Sakura and Lee present their headbands.

"_Haruno Sakura of Konohagakure, registration number 012601." _

"_Rock Lee of Konohagakure, registration number 012561."_

The pilot crosses out the names in his booklet. "_Welcome aboard, Haruno-san, Rock-san_."

* * *

Edward ignores the strange looks in his direction as he plants the canoe on water.

In the distance island, he spies the lifting of a chopper. He glances down at his GPS locator.

"Oh no."

* * *

Sakura leans back in her seat, backpack by her leg.

She is halfway through her instructions to the pilot when Lee remarks, "_What a fascinating New World sport_."

Raising an eyebrow, she glances down the window with Lee. "_You have got to be kidding me_."

Fifteen meters below is a scream of "SAKURAAA!" alongside frantic rowing at impressively high speeds.

* * *

"What are you doing, Edward!" Sakura shouts above the rotor noise.

"Take me with you!"

"No! Go home, Edward, collaboration is done!"

"No, it's not!" Edward screams, his arm at near invisible speeds as blasts of water spew behind him in his propulsion across the ocean.

While Sakura buries her face into her palm, the pilot lowers his headset and asks, "_Is there a problem_?"

"_No, please just keep going_," Sakura sighs, ignoring the distant tiny yells of "Please!" and "Wait!" and "Don't go!" and "Take me with you!" and "Don't you want the cure!"

Of course she wants the-

Wait, what?

Sakura pops her head out again to see Edward has fallen behind, staring horrified at the broken paddle before throwing it aside.

"I can save him!" He waves with his backpack. "Your patient! I can still save him!"

Sunday evening, 5:53, March 13th, 2005, the ladder drops and the clock ticks once more.


	17. A Jet Pack Flight

1845. An age when the uncovered treasures of Egypt made all the fervor in the papers and every man of wealth longed for a sight of the pyramids. It was in Cairo that Carlisle made an accidental encounter with a boy, whom he chased across the sands until he stood before a god, now fallen but once shone as bright as the sun.

Carlisle found more questions than answers, for this was not the first god, nor the last god, only a relic of a different millennia, when many of his kind ruled from above, praised, worshiped, the blood of ten thousand sacrifices. It was a time before hiding, but that time was also now hidden.

The first Isis had long left, as did the second and third. Osiris returned once and never more. Set had his reign and fall. Ra's glory rose and ended. Who was their father, who was their mother, who began them all depended on the speaker of the tale, fragments of the puzzle buried deep in mythology.

After all, if it is truth Carlisle sought, the truth laid not in the past, but in the future.

* * *

Sakura rubs her eyes. In the seat next to her, Lee is asleep, the curtains to the window closed. She cracks it open a peek and is greeted by her reflection against the unobstructed night sky.

Quietly, she turns the next page of the journal in her hands, trying to decrypt the writing and diagrams.

"Hey." Edward stands before her, a glass of lemonade as offering.

With a smile, she accepts the glass, as he slips into the seat across the aisle of the jet.

"Pretty crazy, huh." Edward gestures to the journal.

"I see a man... revitalized. Apparent ingredients of cure include bird, cup, fish, and circle." With a chuckle, she throws the journal aside in favor of the lemonade. "I admit my need of translation."

"Long story short, let's just say there are these kings, these _pharaohs_, that would sometimes face certain fatal diseases like polio, or tuberculosis, or smallpox. And the ancestors of another coven of ours would perform miracle healing on them in exchange for, say, certain favors. And eternal servitude." Edward paused. "That was a while back."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "And I assume they healed them by transferring own self-regeneration to patient."

"... _Something_ like that, yes."

"We are on time constraint, Edward. Do you think you can master same technique? With these?" Sakura beckons at the stack of Carlisle's journals.

"I mean, I've never done it. But... I think I can."

Sakura looks at him, waiting.

Edward drops his shoulders. "Okay, I have to honest with you, Sakura. There's something you probably need to know. The whole vampire species thing, we aren't really... what I mean to say is, we have this ability to-"

His explanation is interrupted by a shake of the jet.

Sakura tenses, her eyes sharp. "We arrive."

"What, no. Sit down, Sakura, it's just turbulence."

There is more shaking that snaps Lee awake and has Sakura bolting to the cockpit. Edward runs after her. "There's no way we're there already," he says, holding onto a ledge. "It'll take at least two or three more hours before we're anywhere near Japan-"

There is a violent tumble that sends items flying. He collides into the restroom door. Latching onto a seat, Sakura sends him a sheepish grin.

"I said in direction of Japan. I never say my destination is Japan." With that, she dashes onwards.

All radios and signals have long stopped functioning, as the pilot flips through the switches.

"_One hundred more kilo at thirty degrees, then dive. The gate is below,_" Sakura instructs.

"_Hai_."

Edward could not believe what he is seeing. In the break of dawn, the air has turned as chromatic as the aurora, billowing past like layers of noctilucent clouds. A strain of unnatural blue swirls and bends as the plane passes by and dips through the clouds, down near the ocean.

"What is this..."

"This is _chakra _barrier. I sense it, and it senses me."

Before Edward can ask what kind of freaky Buddha mojo is she spewing, the plane shakes violently. One neck-breaking thrust later, Edward feels plunged head first into outer space. Meanwhile, Sakura is lifting her head out of the water, finally doused awake. She can breathe, she can think, and she can _move._

The light is filtering into the world, and in the distance is land.

Forks High School does not offer Geography. Edward knows this. But he does not need Geography to know Japan is _not_ in the shape of _that_. And should it be Japan, their entire economy would be sustainable from tourism alone, because the water is sparkling, the mountain ranges prominent, the lagoons a color unreal. The entire land looks to be a paradise untouched by mankind, with a sun blinding from the east, set against a deep passion of blue.

Suddenly, there is a clank of metal. Edward peeks at the window to see five sets of wire grappling onto the plane, with five people in winged devices pulling themselves towards the aircraft.

"_Who the hell are they_!" Edward demands.

"_Border control,_" Sakura waves the issue off._ "This is foreign vehicle, and we trespass._"

"_WHAT!_"

"_Relax, I have passport._"

In a blast of air, five guards, all in identical uniforms of cloth masks, flak jackets, shalwar pants over scandals, flicker inside. The captain steps up. "You have ten seconds to identify yourselves before we detonate this aircraft."

Sakura and Lee present themselves, and the captain stops her pen.

"Hey, didn't recognize you with that hair there!" the captain says. "You're Naruto's girl!"

On instinct, Sakura covers her flushing face. "Um, actually, that didn't really work out."

The captain raises an eyebrow. "No way! You chose psycho boy after all!"

Now Sakura has much empathy for Hinata, as she feels her face burn redder. "That also... didn't... work. Wait, sorry, do I _know_ you?"

The captain pulls down her mask and shakes free her wild hair.

"Amaru-san?" Sakura gasps.

"The one and only!" The captain laughs, spreading her arms wide.

"Holy! Wow, I thought you went to become a doctor. When did you sign up for border control?"

"Several daimyo were getting worrying reports of foreign aircrafts around or above the borders, and my countrymen got involved because we had a high level of aerial technology. It's a pretty good gig, really, and we get to see all the exotic imports. Get this. Cool rock, huh?"

Edward watches the girl converse excitedly with Sakura over a cassette player, before Lee jumps in and chats with them. By now, Edward is beyond confused, guessing that the girl is southern Asian, perhaps Cambodian, from her structure, skin and hair. And yet, her eyes are bright blue. This is contrasted with the Eurasian features of Sakura and the Chinese style of Lee. And the guards behind him look Arabic and... what is that, Polynesian? Yet, they all speak in one language.

Soon, their attentions turn to him. The captain mumbles, pointing at him, her expression morphing into colorful emotions, before Sakura says something that has her laughing uncontrollably. They giggle together, before the captain gestures at Edward.

Sakura turns to him. "_Edward, please extend your hand._"

Edward does as told and finds a metal bracelet clicked around his wrist. "_What-_"

"_Do not worry. It is only security measure._"

Sakura speaks to the captain and gets a nod of consent. "_You are cleared, Edward. We arrive soon, please ready._"

"_We're landing? Here?_"

Below, the different terrains have been dominated by forest, a brilliant foliage of green upon green unaffected by winter.

"_Oh no, aircrafts are not permitted to land_," Sakura explains. _"Pilot flies to Japan, as scheduled_."

Edward does not like where this was going. In a poof of houdini smoke, the captain pulls two sets of winged contraptions out of thin air. "Sakura-san, you should have no problems? Lee-san?"

"Does it require ninjutsu?" Lee asks, doubtful.

"Nah, just basic chakra. If you've mastered water-walking, you're good," the captain says, throwing him the machinery.

Lee beams and straps the machine on, as does Sakura. That leaves Edward, who has his hands up. "_Whoa, I'm lost here. Sakura, what's going on. What are those?_"

Sakura strokes her chin, looking for the correct English terminology. She smiles and unbolts the aircraft door. "_Jet packs_," she says, ignoring his gawking."_Now we jump._"

Before Edward could get another word in, she pushes him out the door. Hair whipping through the air, Sakura gestures good-bye to the captain. "Good seeing you again!"

"Good luck! Also, if Naruto-kun ever gets single again, tell him to owl me!" the captain says with a wink.

A laugh later, Sakura accompanies Lee. "Will do!"

In free fall, Sakura closes her eyes and inhales, feeling the force of gravity. Her panic is gone, her heart rate is calm. This is her world and everything is clear, time ticking in countable seconds, her vision no longer blurred. She stretches her arms and feels for her chakra, limited but vibrant and active again.

The jet pack latches onto her back and propels to life. She dives straight for the source of yelling and catches one hyperventilating Edward right before he can make collision with the trees.

"_What do you worry for? You cannot die from fall, Edward_," Sakura teases.

Edward controls his panic and swallows. "_I have never questioned my immortality until I met you._"

In Sakura's arms, Edward tries to absorb this world and fails miserably. He comes prepared to face ancient Shinto temples and karate ninjas in black suits. He is not ready for motherflipping _Atlantis_.

Had he known he would have at least brought a camera or something, as they glide past the waterfalls, above the forests with trees taller than the sequoia, snakes coil larger than the thickest python. A hawk the size of a dragon dives past them, and Edward catches a feather large enough to be worthy of swordplay.

Sakura uses her freedom to laugh and spin. Edward expects to see a trail of exhaust smoke. Instead, there is a wisp of something invisible that catches the light.

"Sakura-san." Lee nods in a direction, and Edward can feel the Sakura's elation in his mind. In a crater, bordered by a cliff, is human civilization.

It is not the skyscrapers of the New World. There is little break from the village and the surrounding forest, merged and integrated into the earth. People come into view, those on the streets below with baskets of vegetables, those leaping from one rooftop to the next.

And then, there is one orange dot.

"SAKURA-CHAN!" One really, really _big_ orange dot.

Before Edward knows it, there is a human chain catapulting towards them, and he finds his face sandwiched between Sakura and a jumpsuit.

"YOU'RE BACK, YOU'RE BACK!" screams the orange jumpsuit, straddling them all the way to their landing. The human chain poofs away link by link, clone by clone, until Sakura's feet touches the ground and there remains one Naruto squeezing her blue.

"I missed you!" he cries, and only after fifty other maudlin exclamations, half of which include nudge-nudge hint-hint suggestions for a quick bite at Ichiraku, does he notice the blanched fellow with her.

"Who's he?"

Now, any average guy who has just been exposed to the amount of raw sensory stimulus Edward has within the past thirty minutes would probably be a bubbling mass on the floor, his brain undergoing traumatic overload. But Edward is not an average guy. He is handsome, he is cultured, he is as smooth as a baby's bottom, and if Sakura can transition into the U.S. of A without problems, then he will be equally dignified in his transition into Shangri La. Starting with a manly handshake.

"Hello, my name is _Edward_," he says before Sakura can respond. She raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised by his fluency.

Naruto grabs his hand. "Uzumaki Naruto, remember it."

Edward strengthens his grip. "I am from _America_, and I am pleased to greet you."

Naruto applies more pressure as well. "Great, welcome."

"My pants grow pumpkins in mad water."

Naruto blinks once, before his lips pull into a grin. "Well, I can grow eggplants. From _dirt_."

Sakura facepalms. It appears she has overestimated Edward's language competency and underestimated Naruto's... Naruto. To compound her headache, just then and there, a series of explosion sets in distant tower, the sky turns blood red, a ten story giant howls a battle cry, and a swarm of cursed puppets fly out of some magical voodoo box, all occurring not yet two minutes into her homecoming. It appears she has also underestimated her village in general.

Meanwhile, the two men beside her continue their eudicot introductions in the foreground, because Edward has already conceded that if he can handle Atlantis and Shangri La, he can equally handle Lord of the Rings coupled with Marvel/DC superheroes, starting with some masters of shapeshifting, invisibility, gravitation, shadow mimicry, entomopathy, weather manipulation, reality sketching, x-ray vision, pyro blasts, chlorokinesis, mind control, and whatever power that includes a flaming skeletal god thing in the sky.

Besides, he has mind reading. He practically fits right in.

On cue, a spiritual purple catfish swims by, much to Sakura's dismay.

Yup, fits right in.


End file.
